Coccinata
by MissLindaLee
Summary: A simple gift turns into their worst nightmare. Ninth story in Angelica Corusca. Finished
1. Chapter 1

Linda's eyes were closed as she snuggled under her sheets, but she could still pick up the distinct aroma of hot chocolate wafting around her. She slowly opened her eyes and saw her mother sitting on the bed beside her, smiling down at her daughter, a steaming mug in her hands.

"Good morning, sweetie," she replied. 

Linda smiled sleepily and yawned, stretching before she sat up. She glanced at the mug and saw it was filled with her mother's secret hot chocolate – complete with a layer whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles on top. "What's the special occasion?" she asked.

"Well, if I'm remembering this right," Martha answered, the corners of her mouth curled up in a small smile, "someone in this household is having a birthday today."

Linda grinned. "That's me," she said.

Martha chuckled and handed over the mug. Linda started drinking eagerly, not feeling the burning heat from the hot liquid. "Happy birthday, honey."

"Thanks," Linda replied, licking her lips after emptying the mug. "So, now what?"

"Well, your father's already done all the chores," Martha replied. "And since school doesn't start back until tomorrow . . . you get to relax for the rest of the day until your party tonight." The Kent family rarely had birthday parties with big fanfare, but they decided that it would be okay to go out a little for Linda – considering it was both Linda's first and sixteenth birthday at the same time; they had invited Pete, Linda's friends, Lois, Perry, Chloe, and Jimmy, and even Bruce and Dick (Alfred opted to stay behind and keep an eye on the mansion, but said he'd be sending along something special with his 'sons').

"Can I go work in my studio in the meantime?" Linda asked. "I wanna try to see if I can get started on that piece Bruce asked me to make." Bruce had asked her to make a piece for his office in Gotham to keep up the ruse, and Linda had finally chosen something appropriate for her dark friend – a life size bust of the Egyptian god Thoth, the god of wisdom, time, writing and, more appropriately, the moon.

"Sure," Martha replied, smiling. "After you get cleaned up and eat breakfast." She stopped short when she realized Linda had blurred into the bathroom. Martha stopped herself from saying anything else as she heard the shower going. A few seconds later the sound stopped, and Linda blurred back into the bedroom, dressed in old jeans, a work shirt, and a pair of old sneakers, her hair washed and dried and pulled into a ponytail. Martha chuckled. "I do hope you're not going to eat breakfast like that."

"I'll slow down," Linda grinned. She headed for the door, but Martha stopped her.

"Hold on, birthday girl," she said. She pointed to the bed. "Please."

Linda grinned and made her bed at superspeed, then she headed out of the bedroom, leaving her mother in her proverbial dust. Martha smoothed her hair from her face and sighed, smiling as she shook her head, before heading out after her daughter.

- - - -

While Martha cleaned up the stove, and Krypto and Streaky ate from their dishes, Linda sat at the table, calmly eating her breakfast. Suddenly the kitchen door flew open, and Jonathan came in, dressed in his work clothes, grinning, hands on hip – and sporting a beat up, lopsided gold paper crown on his head.

"The Birthday King has arrived!" he announced.

Linda was stunned. "Oh, no," she replied slowly, burying her head in her hands. Images of her father's bongo tradition danced in her head; she could only imagine what her father had in mind for her birthday. She looked up as Krypto and Streaky ran from the kitchen, meowing and barking, her father started doing a hoedown toward the table. "Daddy, what are you doing?"

"A Kent birthday tradition," Jonathan replied, grinning as he took off his crown and put it on his daughter's head.

"No wonder Clark is the way he is," Linda said wryly. She sighed. "Daddy, I love you, but please tell me you won't do this tonight."

"I won't if you let me do this now," Jonathan grinned.

Linda glanced at her mother, hoping she'd be able to help her, but Martha simply grinned and watched the scene. Linda groaned. "Fine . . . but be gentle – please."

Jonathan simply chuckled. "Get ready . . . get set . . . ." He leaned over, and Linda braced for whatever her father planned on doing. Jonathan simply kissed Linda's cheek. "Happy birthday, honey."

Linda opened her eyes, startled. She looked up at her father, confused. "What was that?" she asked.

"Your birthday kiss," Jonathan replied as he sat at the table and started putting food on his plate.

"That's it?" Linda asked. "No bongos, no . . . I don't know – weird stuff?"

"Were you expecting that?" Jonathan asked, smiling as he set his plate in front of him.

"Well, yeah," Linda replied. "You come in here wearing a crown, dancing like you got a bug in your jeans, grinning like you got something up your sleeves . . . and all I get is a kiss?"

Jonathan simply shrugged as he reached for his fork. He wasn't really paying attention, and his fingers knocked the fork from the table. It fell to the floor, clattering on the wood. Linda heard a horrible thundering noise resonating through her ears, as if a bomb had gone off next to her head. She shouted in pain and covered her ears with her hands, squeezing her eyes shut. Jonathan and Martha looked over when Linda shouted, and they both hurried over to their daughter.

"Linda, honey, what's wrong?" Martha asked.

"It's so loud," Linda whimpered. "Please don't shout."

"We're not shouting, sweetie," Jonathan said. "We're talking just -" He realized what was going on and sighed. "Oh boy."

"'Oh boy' what?" Martha asked.

"I think Linda's hearing might be kicking in," Jonathan answered.

"But that's impossible," Martha replied. "Linda still has her sight."

"What does that have to do with it?" Linda asked. "And why didn't I know about this power?"

"Well, because we thought you had to be blind for it to kick in," Jonathan replied. Linda looked at her parents, confused. "Linda, sweetie, when Clark was seventeen he was blinded when his heat vision backfired with a piece of kryptonite. To compensate for the loss of his sight he developed superhearing."

"So, why am I getting it?" Linda asked.

"I wish we knew," Martha answered. "But, regardless, we need to help you get it under control."

"I guess we need to let Clark know?" Linda asked.

"Actually," Jonathan replied slowly, smiling a bit. "Why don't we work this out ourselves and surprise Clark when he comes tonight, okay?" Linda hesitated, but she slowly nodded. Jonathan held out a hand. "Come on, Linda; let's go out to the barn."

"I'll get the radio," Martha replied, smiling. The three Kents headed out of the kitchen together.

- - - -

The three Kents spend most of the day working on helping Linda master her new power. All the machines in the barn were turned on, and Linda stood off to one side of the barn with her mother, while Jonathan stood on the other side. Martha – like she had with Clark – instructed her to focus on Jonathan's voice. It took a few tries, but Linda finally managed to succeed. The rest of the day was spent controlling it, learning how to block out other noises and keep them from interfering. By the time the sun started setting Linda still had a few difficulties, but she had managed to acquire a small level of control. Satisfied for the time being, the trio went about their evening activities - Martha and Jonathan preparing dinner and getting Linda's celebration ready, and Linda taking care of the evening chores and then being told to go take a relaxing bath before her guests showed up.

The warm water, with a special blend of bubble bath, bath salts, and a drop of bath oil – all lavender scented – mixed into it caused Linda to just lose herself in another world. Candles lit the room in a soft glow, and soft classical music played on the small radio on the counter.

"Linda!" Martha's voice called from the other side of the closed bathroom door, startling the girl from her stupor.

"Yes, Mom?" Linda asked.

"Your guests are here," Martha answered. "We're waiting for you, sweetie."

"I'll be down in a minute," Linda replied.

"Don't be too long," Martha said.

Linda carefully stood up and removed the plug from the drain before getting out of the tub. She grabbed her towel from the sink and dried off at normal speed. Drying her hair was a different matter. Using a conventional blow dryer would take too long, but Linda had thought of a little shortcut. It took Linda a few times – practicing outside, sacrificing a couple of scarecrows in the process – to master it, but she found it to be quite helpful when in a rush (which happened from time to time, punctual as she usually was). Staring at her reflection in the mirror the young girl concentrated, putting up a telekinetic bubble around her head, careful to shield her face (but leaving little 'openings' for her eyes), then she fired off four short bursts of her heat vision, two from each eye, and quickly 'covered' her eyes to protect them from damage.

The bursts impacted the edges of the bubble, and Linda could feel the heat radiating around her head, drying her hair in a matter of seconds. The heat quickly dissipated, and Linda dropped her shield, satisfied. She turned off the radio, blew out the candles, then supersped into her bedroom and got dressed, putting on a black shirt with 'The producers of ALF called--they want their alien back' in white letters (a gag gift from Clark), white jeans, and black boots. She left her hair down, only running her fingers through it a few times, before leaving her room and heading downstairs to the kitchen at normal speed.

"Happy Birthday!!"

Linda stopped halfway when she heard the cacophony of voices, and she smiled when she saw the sight before her. Streamers in purple and white hung from the ceiling, along with bunches of purple and silver balloons; a banner with 'Happy 16th Linda!' hung from the ceiling over the island. Five pizzas and a variety of sodas were on the counter. The kitchen table was piled with colorfully wrapped presents, and a large wrapped gift was sitting on the floor beside the table. Gathered around the island, were all of Linda's guests: Clark and her parents; Mattie, Andy, Dick Malverne, Cutter, Wally, and Buzz; Pete, Jimmy, Chloe, Lois, and Perry, and Bruce and Dick Grayson; Krypto and Streaky were running around, barking and meowing. Everyone smiled up at Linda as she came down the stairs, grinning.

"Hi, guys," she said. She looked around in fascination at everything. "Oh, wow, this so neat! Thank you!" Before she had a chance to greet everyone, Mattie and Andy pounced on her, hugging her tightly. "Oof!"

"Hey, girl!" Mattie replied.

"Hey, yourself," Linda said, hugging her girlfriends tightly. She hadn't seen them – any of her friends - in about a week, since she dropped off their Christmas gifts. Dick Malverne, Cutter, Wally, and Buzz were the next ones to pounce on their friend, and Linda was glad to see them again. Afterwards, Pete was next on Linda, then Chloe, Lois, and Perry. Bruce and Dick Grayson followed after, and finally, it was Jimmy's turn.

The young photographer had been hanging back since Linda came down the stairs. Linda walked over to him while everyone else pretended to be busy with other things. He wore black jeans and a matching shirt and shoes; his hair was its normal mussed self.

"Hi," Linda said softly, smiling. As much as she wanted to be his friend – knowing it was something they both needed – she still found herself completely taken by him every time she saw him.

"Hey," Jimmy smiled back. He still found himself completely mesmerized by her presence, and he couldn't help but stare into her eyes.

Lois, standing with the adults near the kitchen table as the teenagers mingled in the living room, glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw the two teens staring at each other like lovesick puppies. "So, are they just friends or not?"

"You know," Clark said, watching his cousin and Jimmy, "I honestly don't know. I don't know anything anymore."

"Join the club, Clark," Jonathan replied. He sighed, glancing at the two. "So, how long do you think we should let them stare at each other?"

"I'm hungry," Clark said. Everyone looked at him. "I am."

"Okay, everyone, let's dig into the pizza!" Martha announced. Linda and Jimmy broke out of their stupor as everyone converged on the pizzas, grabbing slices and getting sodas. Soon, everyone was talking and eating.

After dinner was cake – a large two-layer chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, with 'Happy Birthday Linda' in purple frosting; sixteen candles were on the cake. Sixteen candles were placed on the cake, and then they were lit. The song was sung, Linda made her wish, and then she blew out all the candles in one breath – without any superpowers. Martha cut the cake, Jonathan scooped ice cream – chocolate or vanilla – and everyone enjoyed the dessert, then it was time for Linda to open her presents.

Because everyone – not just Linda – was curious about the large gift on the floor, it was the first gift to be opened. It was from Pete, and it turned out to be a five foot tall E.T. doll. Linda was a little startled, but she smiled brightly.

"Oh, Pete, I love it!" she gushed. "Thank you!"

"No sweat, Linda," Pete replied, smiling.

The second gift was from Bruce and Dick Grayson. Linda carefully torn into it, and she gasped softly when she saw what it was: a violet and lavender glass sculpture from one of her favorite artists. "Wow, it's a Lino Tagliapietra Vittoria!" she exclaimed. "Thank you, Bruce. Thank you, Dick."

"Actually, it was Dick who picked it out," Bruce replied. "He knew you'd like it."

Linda smiled and leaned over, hugging her friend. Dick was started at first, but he hugged her back. "Thank you, Dick," Linda whispered.

"You're welcome," Dick replied softly.

"And here's the second part of your gift," Bruce replied, pointing to another gift. Linda unwrapped it; it was a brand new, state-of-the-art laptop, fax machine, printer, and webcam.

"Wow, Bruce," Linda replied, surprised. "This is . . . wow."

"It's strictly for business purposes," Bruce replied. "It's got wireless capabilities, which I'll help with the installation in your studio, and it'll give you access to all my computers, in case you need to reach me." He gave her a look, and Linda nodded slightly, knowing that also meant the Batcave computer. "Also, there's a business account set up for you, so you can cover your expenses for supplies, equipment; that sort of thing."

"Thank you, Bruce," Linda replied. She suddenly remembered something she wanted to tell Bruce. "Oh, Bruce, I wanted to let you know I finally decided on that piece for your office."

"What?" Bruce asked warily. He remembered the bat sculpture she had made for him for Christmas; it was currently in the Batcave. It wasn't that he dreaded her work; he just wanted to make sure it wasn't anything that would reveal his secret identity.

"A lifesize bust of the Egyptian god Thoth," Linda replied. "God of wisdom, time, writing and, more appropriately, the moon."

Bruce smiled, nodding. Cute, he said. Not funny, but cute.

I thought you'd like that, Bruce, Linda replied, smiling. She sighed and reached for another gift, from Chloe and Lois. She opened it; inside was a purple I-pod, Series 13.

"Now you can jam while you paint and stuff," Lois said.

"And it was a lot cheaper than getting a sound system for your studio," Chloe added.

"Wow, thanks, guys," Linda replied.

The next gift she unwrapped was from her parents. It was a new cellphone with a three-year prepaid plan. "Now, you have no excuse not to keep in touch," Jonathan replied, smiling.

"And anything extra will be paid for by you," Martha added.

Linda grinned and reached for another gift. It was framed certificate from Clark. Linda read it aloud. 'This certifies that Kara Linda Kent, born on January 8, 1998, has completed all the requirements necessary and has been, by the power vested in Clark Joseph Kent, promoted from the status of 'Cousin' to the . . . .'" She trailed off as tears filled her eyes.

"To what?" Cutter asked.

Linda swallowed before continuing. "'To the status of 'Sister,'" she replied softly. "'Given on January 8, 2014, and effective until the end of time.'" She smiled through her tears up at her cousin. "Thank you, Clark."

Clark leaned over and hugged her. "You're welcome," he replied. "Sis." He kissed her on the forehead.

Linda smiled and went back to opening the rest of her gifts. Perry, knowing that Linda had an addiction for chocolate, got her a twelve-month subscription to the Chocolate of the Month club. Alfred had given her an authentic English tea set made of Royal Patrician Fine Bone China, sporting a lilac and vine pattern. In addition, there was also long letter, penned by the butler himself, containing explicit instructions on how to have a proper tea time and rules on how to prepare a proper tea. Linda's friends had pitched in for a mutual gift, and ended up giving their friend her three famous Torch headlines – winning the mascot position, stopping the Scarecrow tradition, and the article announcing her return from being MIA – framed. A small plaque on the bottom read 'To a super girl from her super friends." Linda laughed out loud, amused and touched. The last gift, a small box, belonged to Jimmy. Linda carefully opened it and gasped softly.

"What is it?" Clark asked.

Linda pulled out her gift. It was a bright red gemstone in a sterling silver Fleur-de-lis setting, attached a matching sterling silver chain.

"It's a birthstone necklace," Jimmy replied. "Since Linda was born in January, it's a garnet."

"That's a very nice necklace," Perry said.

"It's beautiful," Linda replied. She smiled at Jimmy. "Thank you, Jimmy."

"Why don't you put it on?" Martha suggested.

Linda nodded and unclasped the chain, then she put the necklace around her neck and clasped the ends together. No one else noticed the garnet briefly glisten, or saw Linda's expression change slightly when she felt the wave of euphoria emanate through her entire body; she closed her eyes in ecstasy. The feeling was brief, and Linda slowly opened her eyes. A sea of red briefly flashed over her eyes, then it disappeared.

Clark noticed the slight expression change in his sister, and he tilted his head. "Linda, you okay?"

Linda slowly smiled, and no one noticed the slightly haunting expression in her eyes as she looked up at her cousin. "I'm sixteen years old, Clark," she replied. "I feel great."

(End of Chapter 1) 


	2. Chapter 2

- - - -

It was midnight, and Main Street was quiet and dark, the only lights coming from the street lights sporadically lining both sides of the street. The buildings were cloaked in shadows, making it easy for the lone figure to dart quickly and quietly in the darkness, finally stopping a hundred yards of the Smallville Savings and Loans. A slow smile spread across the dark figure's face, a plan of action formulating.

- - - -

It was fifteen minutes until eight, and the sun was shining brightly the following morning. Jonathan was outside doing chores, and Martha was busy preparing breakfast at the stove. She had just called for her daughter – three times – with no response, and she sighed; Linda was going to be late if she didn't get moving. 

"Linda!" she called again over her shoulder with a little more force, "you're going to be late for school!"

"I'm coming!" the teenager replied with an annoyed tone that Martha chalked up to having to go back to school; the older woman decided it was best to ignore it, knowing it would blow over after some time.

"Good, because I have a great break" Martha was interrupted as a blur streaked down the stairs and out the kitchen door "fast waiting . . . ." Martha sighed. "For you." She shook her head and tended to the food she made.

Jonathan came in a few moments later, whistling, carrying that morning's edition of the Ledger in his hand. "Good morning, sweetheart," he replied, smiling, as he walked over and kissed his wife.

"Hi," Martha said. She grabbed his cow mug and poured fresh coffee in it.

"Thank you," he replied. He started preparing his coffee with honey. "Linda was certainly in a hurry this morning. Running late?"

"Yep," Martha said. "I don't think she's looking forward to going back to school."

Jonathan chuckled. "Can't say I blame her." He walked over to the table and sat down, putting his mug down and opening the paper, reading the headline. He furrowed his eyebrows in concern. "Well, this inspires a world of confidence."

"What is it, dear?" Martha asked, turning around.

Jonathan held up the paper for her to see. The top headline read 'Smallville Savings and Loan Robbed' in bold black letters. Below it in smaller letters read 'Officials Estimate over $9 Million Missing.' And below that was a black and white picture of the bank's entrance - and the large gaping hole with broken glass and mangled doors littering the immediate area.

- - - -

Cutter and Wally were busy with the Torch, so only Mattie, Andy, Dick, and Buzz stood in front of Linda's lockers, talking and laughing as other students mingled about before the first period started, waiting for Linda to join them. Nothing was out of the ordinary, then all of a sudden a loud wolf whistle stopped everyone in their tracks. All the students stared down the hall, including the four friends, trying to see through the crowd as to what was causing the commotion. Finally, some students moved out of the way, giving a clear view, and Mattie, Andy, Dick, and Buzz's eyes nearly popped out of their heads.

Walking down the hall, dressed in a black lace up leather bustier with spaghetti straps, a matching very short side lace leather skirt, and black stiletto heels was Linda. She held a black leather jacket draped over one shoulder, and a pair of sunglasses covered her eyes, but even from a distance her friends could see the heavy makeup she wore – including a deep red shade of lipstick. She gave a seductive smile to the guys she passed, hips swaying, and all the guys smiled back appreciatively, enjoying both the front and back views.

Linda slinked over to her friends and removed her glasses, fixing them with a smile. "Hi, guys," she replied, her tone laced with seduction.

"Uh . . . Linda," Dick replied as he stared wide-eyed at her, blushing, trying not to stare at her outfit, "anything you want to . . . tell us?"

"Like?" Linda asked.

"Like why you're in black leather and heels," Mattie replied.

"I decided that plaid and jeans weren't working for me," Linda said. She winked at the quarterback when he passed her; he grinned and mouthed 'call me,' holding his hand up to his head like he was holding a phone.

"And when did you decide this?" Andy asked, frowning.

Linda faced Andy, her smile gone. "Do I need your permission to change my clothes, Andy?" she asked. The four were startled by her sudden change of expression.

"No," Andy replied. "I was just -"

"Then just shut up," Linda interrupted, glaring as she left the group, heading down the hall, the four friends staring after her.

"Okay, who was that?" Buzz asked. "And what did she do with Linda?"

"Who knows?" Mattie asked. She glanced at Andy and saw her friend looking a little hurt. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah," Andy replied quietly. She sighed. "I'm going to the bathroom." She walked away. Mattie waited a few moments before heading after her friend, leaving Dick and Buzz by themselves.

"So, what do you think's going on with Linda?" Buzz asked.

Dick shrugged. "Not sure," he replied. "But something is definitely going on." He headed off for the Torch; Buzz was confused, but he hurried after his friend just the same.

- - - -

Sheriff Pete Ross slowly looked around the damaged bank lobby in awe. Mangled doors, broken glass, destroyed furniture – and the vault door (six inches of thick metal) jammed into the far wall, as if it had been thrown into it. It would be days before the place could be reopened. He turned around as he heard debris being shuffled around, and he saw Special Agent Timothy Flynt making his way over. He had a small notebook in his hand. Pete sighed; he knew it was the FBI's jurisdiction to investigate bank robberies, but the sheriff still hated being told what do to in his own city.

"Well, we finally got a total count on the money stolen," Flynt said.

"How much does the FDIC need to insure?" Pete asked.

"Nine million," Flynt replied. "Exactly, despite the fact that there was over five hundred thousand dollars still in the vault. Judging by the damage done in here – coupled with the melted security cameras and the fried security system – it sounds to me like whoever was responsible for this wouldn't have had any trouble taking an extra five hundred grand. Question is why did they leave it?"

"Maybe they ran out of duffle bags," Pete replied wryly.

"Or maybe they were just after the nine million," Flynt said, narrowing his eyes, not finding the sheriff's humor the least bit funny. He flipped open the notebook and read some notes he scrawled down.

"So, now what?" Pete asked.

"Well, the police tape is up," Flynt answered, "so your job is done, Sheriff."

"Excuse me?" Pete replied, raising an eyebrow.

"We're compiling a list of the missing bills," Flynt continued, ignoring Pete. "Once we have that, we'll be able to trace any money the robbers spend; they won't be able to hide from us."

"Whoa, back up the train," Pete said angrily. "I don't care if you're FBI or not; this is my town, and I say what goes on in it. Now, you want to work here, fine, but you work with me; I don't work for you."

"You're out of line, Sheriff," Flynt said, frowning.

"No, you are," Pete replied. "This is what's going to happen: since that list is being complied by the bank manager – who happens to be a good friend of mine – I'll let you know when it's ready; until then, your job is done." Before Flynt could say anything Pete walked out to his patrol car. He got in, started the engine, and drove off. He wanted to talk to some people while waiting for the list.

- - - -

"Alright, class, be seated," Jim Hynes said as the last of his students filed into the classroom. "We have a lot of work to go over, and not a lot of time to do it." A few students groaned, and Hynes frowned. "Anyone who objects can go to Principle Turner's office instead." Silence. "Good. Now, get your textbooks out and turn to -" He was interrupted as Linda sauntered into the classroom. Hynes was not pleased. "Miss Kent, you're late." He eyed her clothing and raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess: it's now been proven that shoveling cow patties is more successful in stilettos than boots?"

"More successful than being able to find another suit that matches the one you're wearing," Linda retorted smugly, nodding to his white polyester suit. A few of the students snickered, and Linda smirked.

"You better watch it, Miss Kent," Hynes warned. "Otherwise, you can march yourself straight down to the Principal's office." He looked her up and down, eyeing her outfit with disdain. "I should send you there anyway for violating the school's dress code."

"Like you could really do anything to me," Linda scoffed.

Hynes narrowed his eyes and marched over to his desk to get his discipline slip pad. He reached for the drawer handle, but the drawer wouldn't open. Hynes pulled harder, but the drawer wouldn't budge. Linda, watched, a cruel smile on her lips as she 'held' the drawer in place with her telekinesis. After watching Hynes struggle with the drawer for a few moments Linda released her hold. The drawer suddenly flew back, sending Hynes stumbling back, crashing into the blackboard and falling to the floor. 

The class erupted into laughter, and Linda smiled smugly. Hynes groaned and scrambled to get to his feet, stumbling and grabbing the desk for support.

What's the matter, teach? Hynes looked up at Linda, who smiled. Yep, it's me talking. Hynes froze; he heard Linda, but she wasn't moving her lips. It's called telepathy. Kinda cool, huh? Hynes slowly backed away, scared, as Linda walked calmly to her desk in the front of the room and sat down. The students were oblivious to the interplay between Linda and Hynes, and some started laughing as others started getting a little concerned for the teacher's odd behavior.

You know what else is cool about telepathy, Mr. Hynes? Linda asked, putting her elbow on the desk and resting her chin on her hand. I can read people's minds too; see their thoughts, dreams, wishes . . . even their darkest fears. What's your darkest fear, Mr. Hynes? There was a pause, then Linda's smile got slightly wider as her eyes danced with anticipation.

Hynes watched as all the students in the room suddenly started changing in shape and colors – until all of them were horrible monsters. All of them had gnashing teeth, and they slowly walked towards Hynes as he trembled on the floor.

"What's the matter, Mr. Hynes?" a fiery orange flame monster asked with Linda's voice. "Scared of monsters?" The Linda monster opened her mouth and flames shot out at the horrified teacher as he cowered and screamed at the top of his lungs.

Teachers stuck their heads out their classrooms when they heard the screaming. A few moments later Hynes came screaming out of his classroom like the devil was after him, running down the hall, shouting "They're after me!" repeatedly. No one noticed the smug look on Linda's face as she sat calmly at her desk.

- - - -

"So, you think it's drugs?" Dick asked, leaning over and looking at the computer screen as Cutter and Wally milled about in the filing cabinets. On the monitor was about what signs to look for in a drug user.

"Either that or she's sick," Wally replied. "Which I'm more inclined to believe over her being on drugs; she doesn't look the type to do drugs."

"Look can be deceiving," Cutter said. "I mean, come on, look at the facts: first of all, where did she get that leather outfit Dick said she was wearing?"

"She could have bought it," Wally replied. "She does, after all, have nine million dollars in her savings."

"Well, not really," Cutter replied. "Not anymore." He handed over and gave his partner a piece of paper.

"What's that?" Dick asked.

"A fax from our source at the Sheriff's," Cutter replied. They already knew about the bank robbery. "Seems the total amount stolen from the bank was exactly nine million dollars."

"So, Linda's broke," Dick replied. "That still doesn't prove anything."

"It still brings up the question as to where she got the money to buy that wardrobe," Wally replied. "I mean, it's not like she broke into the bank and stole her own money; it wouldn't make any sense."

"Still doesn't mean she's on drugs," Dick said angrily.

"Whoa, hold it, Dick," Cutter replied, holding his hands up. "We're not saying she's on drugs; we're just saying it's a possibility."

"You shouldn't even be thinking it," Dick said. "Linda's not on drugs."

"He's right, you know." The boys looked over and saw Linda leaning against the open door frame of the office. Cutter and Wally eyes widened; Dick's description of Linda's new look was no where near as . . . shocking as actually seeing it in person. "Morning, guys."

"Aren't . . . uh, aren't you, uh, supposed to be in study hall?" Wally asked. It had been a short time since Hynes had been caught and taken to Belle Reeve for observation, and Cutter and Wally had been researching that when Dick came in, demanding help with Linda.

"Got bored," Linda replied, sauntering in. "So, I thought I'd come and see my friends." She walked past Dick and winked at him before sitting at the desk and putting her feet up; the guys discreetly kept their gazes from drifting below her chest. "So, how are the ace reporters today?"

"Linda, we need to talk," Dick said, pulling up a chair.

Linda sighed. "Look, I'm not taking drugs, okay?"

"I think you're sick, Linda," Dick replied. "I mean, this sudden change of behavior, these clothes . . . they're not you."

"You don't know me, Dick," Linda said. "Maybe I like this way; maybe it's how I'm supposed to be."

"I don't believe that," Dick replied. "How could you think you're supposed to be like this?"

"Because this was how I was raised," Linda answered. "To know that power was everything, that if anyone gets in your way to just crush it into dust." She suddenly burst into a fit of giggles. Dick glanced uneasily at Cutter and Wally; something was definitely wrong with Linda.

"What's so funny?" Cutter asked warily.

"You," Linda replied, grinning. "You think you're so smart and so perceptive, but you don't realize how blind you truly are." The three fixed her with blank stares. "You're so close to the coolest story in the world – and you don't even realize it."

"And what would that be?" Wally asked.

"Me," Linda replied.

Cutter sighed. "Linda, we know about your art work and being friends with Bruce Wayne, and -"

"Not that," Linda interrupted. "I'm talking about my life story."

"We know about it too, Linda," Dick replied.

"What you know is a lie," Linda said with edge in her voice. "All of it." The trio looked confused, and Linda smiled a little. "Do you wanna know a secret?"

Dick sighed, very worried about his friend, but he decided to humor her – for the time being. "What's your secret, Linda?" he asked.

Linda's eyes sparkled. "I'm really an alien," she said.

(End of Chapter 2) 


	3. Chapter 3

- - - - 

"An . . . alien?" Cutter asked in disbelief.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Linda said, grinning.

"Uh, Linda . . .," Dick slowly replied, "how could you possibly be an alien?"

"Well, it's quite simple, Dick," Linda answered. "Remember last July when the Army investigated that falling satellite piece?" The three boys nodded. "That was actually my spaceship."

"Okay," Wally said slowly, "then where is your spaceship now?"

"In the storm cellar on our farm," Linda replied. She noticed their looks and chuckled. "You don't believe me. Well, I guess you wouldn't believe me if I told you I'm also Superman's cousin."

"Linda, you're Clark Kent's cousin," Dick said.

"Yeah, and I'll let you figure the rest out," Linda replied.

"You're saying that Clark Kent is Superman?" Dick asked.

"Ding, ding, ding!" Linda replied, clapping. "We have a winner!"

"Okay, Linda, enough's enough," Dick said. "You're not Superman's cousin; you're not even an alien. You're Linda Kent, you're a human being, you were adopted by Jonathan and Martha Kent, and your cousin – their son – Clark." He put a hand on her shoulder, softening his voice. "Come on, Linda. You're sick. We'll take you home."

Linda jerked away from Dick and got to her feet, frowning. "You can't tell me what to do," she said. "I'm not sick; I feel great." She fixed her friends with disdain. "You know, I was going to ask you if you wanted to go have some fun, but I've changed my mind. You're depressing me." She sauntered out of the office, leaving the three stunned for a few minutes, then Dick hurried over to the phone.

"What are you doing?" Cutter asked.

"Calling the Kents," Dick replied . "They need to know about this."

- - - -

"So, who do you think it was?" Martha asked as she sat at the kitchen table with Jonathan and Pete. Krypto and Streaky were playing under the table, wrestling.

"I don't know," Pete replied, "but whoever it was had some serious power to tear the bank up like that. I mean, normally that's the kind of stuff you'd see in Metropolis, not Smallville."

"But then again there was never that much money in Smallville at once," Jonathan said. "Small town bank with minimal security and a large sum of money in once place makes for an easy target."

"So, you don't think someone's out to hurt Linda?" Martha asked.

Jonathan shook his head. "Not sure; they left five hundred thousand dollars in the bank, so that could mean someone's after her, but I don't know of anyone with the kind of power to be able to rob a bank and not -" He stopped short. "Wait a minute. That's it."

"What?" Pete asked.

"Lex," Jonathan answered, growling.

"Jonathan, I know Lex is bad," Martha said, "but what motive would Lex have for robbing the bank."

"Because Bruce got to Linda before he could," Jonathan replied. "Only Linda's money was taken, and Lex is the only one who would have the means to do it without anyone knowing who did it." He got up from the chair and headed for the phone; it suddenly rang, startling him. He paused only for a moment before answering it. "Hello?"

- - - -

Linda supersped up the drive and stopped short. She saw Pete's patrol car near the red truck and knew he was there with her parents. She narrowed her eyes, not wanting to deal with any of them. She glanced up at the house and smirked; getting a running start, she sped off toward the house and jumped onto the roof, landing gracefully near her window. She walked over to the window and focused her telekinesis on the lock and window; she watched as the lock slowly turned, and then the window opened.

Smiling, she stepped inside her room and walked over to her closet. She opened the door and pulled out a large duffle bag that rested on the floor. She brought it out and unzipped it, parting the folds. Stacks of tied up wads of bills spilled out onto the floor, but more wads were stuffed into the bag. Linda pulled out two wads, and a cruel smile spread across her lips. She tilted her head when she heard the phone ring. Curious, she tilted her head, waiting. The phone stopped after one ring; Linda narrowed her eyes at the floor, switching to x-ray vision. She looked past the floor and saw a skeleton on the phone. Linda cut back to her normal vision, then she concentrated and focused her superhearing, listening to the conversation.

- - - -

"Mr. Kent, it's Dick," the young boy said.

"Hi, Dick," Jonathan replied. "Is everything okay?"

"It's Linda."

Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows. "What's wrong with Linda?"

"She's sick or something," Dick replied. "She came to school in this weird outfit, acting really strange, and then she started rambling on about being an alien."

"What?" Jonathan's eyes went wide in shock, his voice rising. "She actually said that?"

"Yeah, she also said she was Superman's cousin," Dick added.

Jonathan closed her eyes, angry and concerned at the same time. _Linda, what have you done?_ he thought to himself. He sighed. "Dick, I -"

"Sir, I don't know what's going on with her, but I think she's really sick," Dick interrupted. He sighed. "She might even be on drugs or something."

Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows. Dick didn't believe her, at least that's the way it sounded. The farmer knew he couldn't really worry about that at the moment; he had to find his daughter. "Dick, where is Linda?" he asked, trying not to sound worried.

"I don't know," Dick replied. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Jonathan said. "We'll talk later." He hung up and sighed.

"What's wrong?" Martha asked.

"That was Dick," Jonathan replied. "He said Linda just told him that she was Superman's cousin."

"What?" Martha asked incredulously as she got to her feet. "She said that to Dick?"

"Yeah," Jonathan answered. "Dick said Linda was talking crazy; I don't know whether to believe him or not."

"Where's Linda now?"

Before Jonathan could say anything there was a whooshing in the living room. "Right here." Everyone turned and saw Linda standing near the stove, holding the duffle bag with money in her left hand. They were visibly shocked by her attire, and Pete slowly stood up and Martha walked over to her husband.

"Linda, did you tell Dick your secret?" Jonathan asked.

"Yep," Linda replied. "And Cutter and Wally, but don't worry."

"Don't worry?" Jonathan asked, his voice getting louder. "You tell them your secret and Clark's secret, and you're telling me 'don't worry?'" He glanced at her outfit. "And what are you wearing?"

"Something I like a lot better than plaid and jeans," Linda replied. She smirked. "And the boys at school like it too."

"Linda, where did you get that outfit?" Martha asked.

"I bought it," Linda answered. "With my money."

"Linda, you've spent your allowance already," Jonathan replied.

"Not that money," Linda said. She dropped the duffel bag next to her feet. The trio glanced at the bag, then they looked back at Linda as the realization slowly hit them.

"You stole the money from the bank," Pete said slowly, not wanting to believe it was true.

"Bravo for Pete," Linda replied, smiling. "Yep, I robbed the bank. It was kind of fun, really. Melting the cameras with my heat vision, short circuiting the security with my telekinesis . . . throwing the vault door through the wall with my bare hands."

"Linda, why?" Martha asked in disbelief.

"Because I wanted to," Linda answered, her voice laced with edge. "It was my money, and I was sick of having to get someone else's permission to get it." She glared at her parents. "Just like I'm sick of you telling me what I can and can't do."

Jonathan frowned and opened his mouth, but then he glanced down at the necklace as sunlight glinted off the red stone. He furrowed his eyebrows – and then it clicked. He remembered Linda's behavior from the night before; it had been a little odd, and no one thought much of it. Now, standing there, hearing what his daughter was telling him, seeing how she was acting, knowing what she did, it all made sense – and his stomach turned to ice.

"Oh, God, no," he whispered softly.

"What's the matter, Jonathan?" Linda asked. "Your little girl not acting the way you want her to?"

Jonathan tried to hide his expression from Linda, knowing what she was capable of. He did his best to smile, hoping Linda would fall for it. "Linda, honey, maybe we can sit down and work this out; talk about what's bothering you." He extended a hand toward the table, inviting Linda to sit down, smiling warmly, ignoring the confused looks on Pete's and Martha's faces. "What do you say?"

Linda eyed her father, then she extended a hand of her own. Jonathan's body stiffened, and he couldn't move at all. He looked absolutely terrified as he felt himself being lifted a few inches into the air. Martha and Pete looked horrified at what Linda was doing.

"Linda, put him down right now," Martha said.

"Why should I?" Linda asked coldly. "He was planning on getting kryptonite from the closet to use against me." She smiled smugly at Jonathan. "The perks of being a telepath, Jonathan."

"Linda," Jonathan wheezed, feeling like he was being suffocated, "you've got to take it off; it's dangerous."

Martha and Pete looked confused as they glanced at Linda's necklace, then they realized what Jonathan was talking about. Martha glanced at Pete, giving him a look, and he nodded slightly; Martha looked back at her daughter.

"Linda, please listen to your father," she said. "You have to take that necklace off."

"Jimmy gave it to me for my birthday," Linda said, staring coldly at her mother. "I like it." She saw Pete edging towards the hallway slowly, and she thrust her other hand out. Pete went flying backwards, slamming into the far wall; he fell to the floor, groaning, as he slowly slipped into unconsciousness.

Martha and Jonathan looked at their daughter, knowing that Linda wasn't herself, but still scared of what she was capable of. Martha slowly held her hands up, trying to remain calm, hoping she could reach her daughter.

"Linda, please listen to us," she said gently.

"I'm through listening," Linda replied. She used her free hand and jerked it to the side, sending Martha flying through the air into the hall. She crashed into the picture table. Glass and wood frames broke and Martha fell to the floor, unconscious, blood seeping from cuts on her face and arms.

Jonathan looked at Linda, in shock at what she'd done, and he saw the coldness in his daughter's stare a moment before she telekinetically tossed him into the kitchen as easily as tossing a rag doll. He slammed into the fridge, crashing to the floor, unconscious, as objects rained down on him.

Linda stared down at her father, a slow smile spreading across her face. Satisfied, she picked up her duffle bag and headed out the kitchen door, holding the bag close to her as she took off at full speed.

Inside, Krypto and Streaky slowly came out of their hiding place under the table. After making sure it was safe they carefully walked over to Pete; Krypto licked his cheek, whimpering softly as Streaky gently bumped him with her head. After a few moments Pete stirred from his spot, groaning as he slowly sat up. He looked around and saw Jonathan in front of the fridge. Pete carefully got to his feet and headed over; he glanced to his side as he passed the hall, and he saw Martha on the floor, broken glass and pictures scattered around her. He hurried over to her and knelt beside her as she started stirring.

"Mrs. Kent, are you okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," Martha whispered, groaning as Pete helped her into a sitting position. "What happened? Are you okay? Where are Jonathan and Linda?"

"I'm fine," Pete replied. "Just a little banged up. Linda's gone. Mr. Kent is -"

"Martha?" Jonathan's raspy voice asked. "Pete?"

"We're here, Mr. Kent," Pete said as he helped Martha to her feet. The two slowly walked into the kitchen and saw Jonathan in a sitting position, leaning against the fridge; his head was bleeding from a gash on his forehead, and he cradled his left arm. Krypto and Streaky were giving him their own inspections. "You okay, sir?"

Jonathan slowly nodded, wincing when he moved his arm. "I think so," he replied. "Might have broken my arm; I don't know. Where's Linda?"

"She's gone," Martha said as Pete helped her to a chair at the table. Tears filled her eyes. "Jonathan, we have to find her. We can't lose her."

"I know," the farmer said as he slowly got to his feet, groaning. He gasped as he limped slowly over to the coat rack. "I'll go find her."

"Uh, sir, with all due respect," Pete said, "you should stay here. I mean, she's on red k, and look at what she's done already – to the bank, to her friends . . . to us. She could really hurt you if you go after her again."

"Pete, she's my daughter," Jonathan replied. "I'm going after her."

"Jonathan, Pete's right," Martha said. "You can't go after Linda; not this time." She turned to Pete. "Pete, call Clark; let him know what's going on." Pete nodded and hurried for the phone.

- - - - -

Clark was sitting at his desk, whistling and working on an assignment, when his phone rang. He kept his attention on his work as he reached for the phone, answering it on the second ring. "Clark Kent," he said.

"Clark, it's Pete."

Clark smiled. "Hey, Pete, how's it going?"

"Not so good," Pete answered. "It's Linda."

Clark furrowed his eyebrows. "What's wrong with her?" he asked softly.

"One word: red," Pete replied.

Clark felt his blood freeze. It couldn't be. "Pete, are you sure?"

"Clark, I would not be lying about this, man, you know that."

"Point taken," Clark replied. "Where is she?"

"We don't know. After she attacked us, she must have bolted."

"'Us?'" Clark asked. "Who is 'us?'"

"Your parents and me," Pete replied.

Clark's heart stopped. "I'll be right there." He hung up and grabbed his coat. "Chloe!"

"Chloe's not here," Jimmy said as he walked over. "She's out with Lois covering that orphanage story, remember?" He heard Clark swear under his breath. "What's wrong?"

"Uh, a small . . . family situation," Clark replied. "I'm going to be out for the rest of the day. Tell Perry I'll be in Smallville." He hurried to the elevators before Jimmy could answer him.

Jimmy watched, curious and worried. He knew if it had been about Jonathan and Martha, Clark would have said something, but he hesitated; Jimmy knew it had to be about Linda. What could be wrong with Linda? Jimmy waited until Clark was on the elevator before he walked over to his desk and dialed the Kents' number. He heard it ring a couple times.

"Kent residence," Pete answered.

"Hi, this is Jimmy Olsen," the photographer replied. "I was just calling to see how things are."

"Uh, everything's fine Jimmy," Pete said quickly. "Look, now's not the best time for a social call; I'll have the Kents call you later."

Jimmy heard the click as Pete hung up on him. The teen sighed, frustrated as he slammed the phone down. He was debating going to Smallville, but then Perry came out of his office.

"Olsen, I need you to get to 11th and Bleaker!" he shouted. "Some maniac just tore up Parker's Electronics; Chloe and Lois will meet you there."

Jimmy sighed. "Sure, Chief." He reluctantly grabbed his camera bag and jacket. "Oh, Chief, Clark said he's going to Smallville; family situation."

"Everything okay?" Perry asked.

"Not sure, Chief," Jimmy answered.

"Well, get going," Perry said. Jimmy headed for the elevators. "And don't call me Chief!"

- - - -

"Mom, Dad?" Clark said, heart pounding, as he walked through the kitchen door.

"Over here, Clark," Jonathan said.

Clark looked over and saw his parents sitting at the kitchen table, Pete tending to their wounds. For a moment Clark just stood their in shock. Jonathan had his left arm in a makeshift sling, and his face and hands were covered with scratches and bruises. Martha had a few bandages on her face and hands, and a deep bruise on the left side of her face. Even Pete looked like he had had the tar beaten out of him, though Clark couldn't see any visible injuries. Clark did a quick visual sweep of his parents and best friend with his x-ray vision, and he was relieved that they didn't have any broken bones. He glanced over in the living room and saw Krypto and Streaky huddled on the couch, looking forlorn as they curled up next to each other.

"Are you three okay?" Clark asked.

"We're fine, Clark," Jonathan replied. "Your mother and Pete are fine; I think I broke my arm and sprained my ankle, but that's not important right now. We've got to find Linda."

"Your arm's not broken, Dad," Clark said. "It's probably just sprained." He looked around at the damage. "How did Linda get red kryptonite? Did she get a hold of a school ring?"

"It was on her necklace," Martha answered. "The one Jimmy gave her last night."

Clark closed his eyes briefly, remembering the strange glint in Linda's eyes after she put on Jimmy's necklace. "It's all my fault," he said. "I saw her after she put the necklace on, but I didn't do anything."

"Clark, don't blame yourself," Jonathan said. "This wasn't your fault. What we need to focus getting that necklace away from her."

"Did she really attack you?" Clark asked.

"And robbed the Smallville Savings and Loan," Pete added. "And she wore a skimpy black leather outfit around school, so there's no telling what she did there, but, uh she also told Dick and Cutter and Wally that she was really you're cousin."

"So?" Clark asked. "She is my cousin."

"She told them she was Superman's cousin," Martha added.

Clark's eyes slowly widened. "What?" he asked. "She told them that?"

"We're not sure if they believed her or not." Jonathan replied. He sighed. "Son, you're going to have to find her; she's become dangerous – to herself and to others."

"I don't get it," Clark said. "How could she go so bad so quickly?"

"Because that's how Linda's biology works," Martha answered. "The basis for Linda's powers, her mental state, everything about her is tied to her emotions, remember?"

"And and since red kryptonite affects Kryptonians emotionally," Jonathan said, "Linda's probably more sensitive to its affects."

"Not to mention Linda's past," Martha added. "Lord knows that poor girl has so much emotional baggage from what Zor-El did to her."

"If that's the case, then she's even more dangerous," Jonathan replied. He turned to Clark. "Son, you have to find her and get that necklace away from her."

"How?" Clark asked. "I wouldn't even know where to begin looking for her."

"Why not Metropolis?" Pete suggested. "When you went 'Kal' that's where you went; maybe Linda's there too. And you can always use your telepathy to find her."

"If she hasn't put up a mental block," Clark replied. He sighed. "Hopefully, my age will give me an advantage."

"You won't be able to get close to her, Clark," Martha replied. "You might be older and stronger, but she's telekinetic, telepathic, and her superhearing's developing. She'll know you're coming after her before she even sees you."

"Her superhearing's in?" Clark asked, raising an eyebrow. "When did that happen?"

"Yesterday," Jonathan answered. He sighed. "We were hoping to surprise you."

"Yep, that's me - surprised," Clark said. He pursed his lips. "So what do I do? How can I stop her if I can't get near her?"

"What about using green kryptonite?" Pete suggested. "I mean, I know it also hurts you, but we really don't have a choice, do we?"

"No green kryptonite," Jonathan said. "We've had enough injuries this day."

"Then how will Clark be able to stop Linda?" Martha asked.

Clark turned his head, thinking, then he nodded after a few moments. "I think I might have an idea." He hurried out of the house in a blur, leaving his parents and Pete wondering what Clark had in mind.

(End of Chapter 3)


	4. Chapter 4

- - - -

Alfred walked calmly to the door as he heard the doorbell chime for the second time. He opened the door and was surprised to see Clark standing on the front doorstep. "Mr. Kent," he said. "It is so good to see you again. What brings you to Gotham, business or pleasure?"

"Personal," Clark replied grimly. "Is Bruce here?"

"He's working," Alfred answered. He noticed how worried the reporter looked and knew something was terribly wrong. "I'll take you to him right away; follow me, sir." He closed the door after Clark came inside, and then he led the younger man through the mansion to Bruce's study. The large room was empty, but both Alfred and Clark headed over to the large grandfather clock on the far side of the wall. The butler opened the glass case protecting the face and moved the hands of the clock until they were both pointing down at the six, then he closed the glass. The grandfather clock suddenly moved to the left, revealing a large staircase leading down a dark tunnel. The two men entered, and the clock went back to its normal position, hiding its well-kept secret from the rest of the world.

Clark followed Alfred down the staircase to the dark and dank caves below the mansion. Even though he had been there numerous times, he still found being in the caves unsettling. It wasn't the shadows that hid secrets away from the rest of the world; Clark simply hated all the bats that made the caves their home. He didn't know what it was about bats that he found disturbing; he just found them to be nothing more than rats with wings.

The two men came to the man control area of the cave, where a large computer with too many controls and displays to count stood. It was roughly twenty feet in height and ten feet in length. A simple office-like chair was in front of the main display, and Clark could see a head of dark hair peeking over the top.

"Sir, Mr. Kent is here to see you," Alfred said, announcing Clark's presence.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce said. Alfred nodded and left to tend to matters in the mansion as Bruce stood up and turned around. He was dressed in a black turtleneck sweater, khaki slacks, and black dress shoes. "So, what's up, Kent?"

"I need your help, Bruce," Clark replied.

"Need someone to break into Lex's personal files?" Bruce asked, smirking.

Clark didn't even crack a smile. "It's Linda," he said.

The smirk faded from Bruce's face as he tried to remain cool, but Clark could see he was still concerned. "What's wrong with her?"

"She's on red kryptonite," Clark replied. "From the necklace Jimmy gave her last night." He sighed. "She's lost control, Bruce; she broke into the Smallville Savings and Loan, trashed the bank and stole her money, then she pulled some stunts at school and told her friends she was an alien and Superman's cousin. Then, to top it off, she attacked my parents and Pete."

"Are they okay?" Bruce asked.

Clark nodded. "Just banged up." He took a deep breath. "Bruce, I need you to help me stop her. She's dangerous, and I don't think I'll be able to get close enough to get that necklace off."

"You don't think your speed and strength can overpower her?" Bruce asked.

"She has telepathy and telekinesis, plus her hearing's kicked in," Clark replied. Bruce seemed surprised by that revelation, but he kept quiet. "Plus, she has no qualms about attacking our parents, so she won't think twice about attacking me." He walked over to Bruce. "Bruce, you gotta help me stop her."

Bruce had never seen Clark that scared before, the green eyes pleading. He took in a deep breath and nodded, heading over to a section of the caves that housed his uniforms and all his weapons. He reached up on a shelf and grabbed a small lead box. Clark recognized the box as the one Bruce put Lex's kryptonite ring in after stealing it from the businessman; Clark frowned.

"No, Bruce," he said. "No green kryptonite. I won't let you hurt her."

"Then what do you want me to do, Clark?" Bruce asked angrily. "Shoot a tranquilizer dart at her? Throw sleeping gas at her? In case you hadn't notice, she has your biology, which means the only thing that can stop her is this green rock."

"There has to be another way," Clark replied. "You're supposed to be the world's greatest detective, Bruce. Think of something else; I won't let you hurt her."

"But you're willing to let her hurt others?" Bruce retorted. "Don't you think it's selfish to put her well-being above everyone else, even if she's hurting them?" He didn't even see Clark's fist hit him in the face, sending him tumbling back onto the floor, into some equipment. He knew Clark had held back when he punched him, but the reporter still packed quite a punch. Bruce groaned as he slowly stood up, and he knew from the pain in his nose that it was broken. He stared at Clark, who still looked mad as he clenched his fists tightly, holding them down at his side.

"Feel better?" Bruce asked as he gingerly felt his nose. He quickly set the broken bones, not even wincing at the pain. "Or do you want to hit me again?"

"Will you put the green kryptonite away?" Clark asked.

"For now," Bruce replied. "But if I can't find another way to stop Linda, then I'll have no choice but to use it. You don't want me to do that fine, but then you can leave the cave and find your own way to stop her." He marched over to his chair and sat down. 

Clark stayed in his spot as Bruce started researching other options. Slowly, his anger started subsiding, and finally he sighed as he walked over. "Bruce, look, I'm sorry about hitting you." Bruce remained quiet, pressing buttons and watching the computer display. "Bruce, I'm -"

"Forget it, Clark," Bruce interrupted. "You're stressed out; you lost your temper. It's in the past; move on."

Clark sighed. "Fine." He watched as Bruce continued his investigation, and after a time, Bruce finally stopped; Clark tilted his head slightly, staring at the display. "What's that?"

"A solution to your problem," Bruce replied. "It'll take some time to get it ready, but it should stop Linda – without having to resort to using the kryptonite ring."

"Work fast," Clark said.

- - - -

Jimmy was completely exhausted as he opened the apartment door and trudged into his dark home. He had spent the rest of the day with Chloe and Lois, chasing one lead after another concerning the unknown maniac. They went from building to building around the city – ten in total – always getting there in time to see the incredible damage that was left over, but the person was always long gone. Even those who were there during the robberies couldn't give a description - just that the person was very strong and very fast. Jimmy was tempted to use his wristwatch to contact Clark, but he knew Clark was busy with Linda – and he didn't want to interfere with that. After the last stop the trio decided to call it a day. They went back to the Planet, worked on the story and got the pictures developed before heading home around nine.

The photographer closed the door and locked it, not bothering to turn on any lights as he headed for his bedroom, thankful his mother was out of town on assignment; he didn't want to answer any questions at the moment. He put his camera bag on his desk and shrugged out of his clothes and shoes until he was wearing just his navy blue boxers; he was too tired to even get into his usual t-shirt and sweats. He tossed his clothes aside and flopped onto his bed, curling up on his side with a pillow as he closed his eyes, hoping he could get at least five hours of sleep. He sighed as he settled in, feeling sleep already creeping in on him.

"So, have a busy day?"

Jimmy's eyes flew open as he sat up quickly, looking around the dark, his heart pounding. He slowly reached for the lamp on his nightstand and switched it on. He gasped softly, his eyes widening. Linda was standing at the foot of his bed, holding two large black duffel bags – and wearing an outfit that looked like something a stripper would wear before taking her clothes off.

"Linda?" he asked, his voice squeaking. Then he remembered he was just sitting there in his boxers; he grabbed a pillow and covered himself, blushing. "Uh . . . what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," Linda replied. She dropped her bags at her feet.

"How did you get in?" Jimmy asked.

"Fire escape to get up here," Linda answered, "and I used my telekinesis to unlock your window."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. "Okay," he said slowly. "Uh, well . . . okay. Uh, is everything okay?" His gaze kept traveling south of her neck, and he had to keep reminding himself to look at her face.

"Everything's fine, Jimmy," Linda said, slipping out of her stilettos.

"Oh, well, well, that's good," Jimmy replied, trying to act cool. "So, uh -" Linda crawled onto the bed on all fours. "Linda, what are you doing?" Linda didn't answer as she just stared into his eyes, and Jimmy tried to scoot back, but he realized he only had one good hand as the other was being used to hold his pillow over his front; he glanced down briefly and saw a perfectly good view down her top. The red jewel in the necklace he gave her glinted slightly in the soft light as it dangled between her breasts; Jimmy quickly adverted his attention.

"Here, let me get rid of that," Linda said before snatching the pillow off him, tossing it aside, and Jimmy could feel his heart pounding as she crawled towards him. She planted a romantic kiss on his lips. "There, that's much better."

Jimmy chuckled nervously as he tried to figure out something – anything - to say, but before he could she kissed him again. He started losing himself a little, but then he realized what was going on, and he put his hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her away.

"What's wrong?" Linda asked.

"I thought we agreed to be friends," Jimmy said. "Remember?"

Linda simply smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of her face as she straddled his hips. "I changed my mind," she said softly as she kissed him again. "Besides, you said you wanted us to be together." She moved her hands up his chest, her fingers brushing softly against his bare chest. "Why fight what we both want?" She kissed his lips then moved to his cheek and finally nibbled his ear a little.

Jimmy's breathing quickened and became shallower as Linda moved to kissing his neck. He couldn't believe this was happening. "Linda," he said slowly, "I, uh, I want us to be together, but isn't this rushing things just a little bit?" 

"Not really," Linda replied. "You're here, I'm here; just relax and go with it." She kissed him deeply as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. 

Jimmy tried to protest, but he soon found himself lost in the kiss, not wanting it to end. His hand hovered next to her hip awkwardly, and then he breathed into her mouth as his hand finally rested on her hips and squeezed them gently. After a few moments he ran his hands up her back, gently pulling her into him as he wrapped his arms around her back, the kissing growing heavier with each passing moment.

Soon, he moved his hands up her arms, brushing his fingers against her soft skin. When he reached her straps he tried to tug them down, but they were too tight. Linda smiled as she kissed his cheek, moving to his neck.

"I am so glad your mother's not here," she said softly.

"How do you know my mom's not home?" Jimmy whispered as he pulled down her straps and planted kisses on her shoulders.

"Buzz, buzz," Linda replied. Jimmy chuckled and went back to kissing her neck. "I've already dealt with enough parents today, and I'd rather not deal with any more."

"Why, what's wrong with your parents?" Jimmy asked.

"They tried to stop me."

"From coming to see me?"

"From leaving the house; Pete too, but I took care of them."

Jimmy stopped kissing her and stared at her, furrowing his eyebrows. "Whoa, hold on, what do you mean 'took care of them?'"

"They freaked out when they found out what did," Linda replied.

"What, with the outfit?"

Linda giggled. "Not really. They freaked a little with the outfit, but they went ballistic about the bank."

"What did you do about the bank?" Jimmy asked.

Linda's smile grew wider. "I melted the cameras, short-circuited the security system, threw the vault door through the wall, then I took all my money." She looked over her shoulder and looked at the bags. "It's in the one on the left - all nine million of it."

Jimmy looked shock. "Linda, why would you do something like that?"

"Because I'm sick of being told what to do - I've spent my entire life following rules; I'm through listening."

Jimmy remembered Clark talking about 'family situation,' and Jimmy wondered if this was it. "Linda, I don't know what's going on with you and your parents, but you can't just go around stealing money."

"It's my money," Linda said. "It's not stealing." She smirked. "Stealing would be when I trashed those stores earlier today."

"That was you?" Jimmy asked.

Linda nodded, looking proud as she leaned over to kiss him again. "The other bag has all the stuff I wanted and got."

Jimmy furrowed his eyebrows. "Linda, what's wrong with you?" He sighed. "No wonder Pete's after you."

Linda chuckled. "Not anymore," she said, "and if he knows what's good for him, he won't try to mess with me again."

"Linda," Jimmy said seriously, "I don't know what's gotten into you, but this is bad; you've got to give that money back."

"It's my money; Bruce gave it to me, remember?"

"It's not that simple."

Linda sighed. "Jimmy, you're seriously killing the mood."

"I don't care. You've got to give that money back before you get in some serious trouble."

"No one saw me - I killed the cameras, remember?"

"That's not the point; just because you can get away with it doesn't mean you should do it."

"I can do whatever I want," Linda replied.

"Do you really think Clark is going to let you get away with this?"

"He can try to stop me - I'll just deal with him like I dealt with Pete and the Kents."

Jimmy sighed, not believing this was the same girl he fell for. "Linda, I know I can't do anything to stop you, but I'm not going to be any part of this, so I think you'd better leave."

Linda narrowed her eyes. "You want me, and now you're rejecting me?"

"I want the girl I fell for in Smallville. I don't know why you're acting this way, but this isn't you."

"You don't know that, Jimmy; I like this way; maybe it is me." She got off him and moved to get her shoes. "I came here to have some fun, but if you don't want to, then I'm sure I can find a man in this city willing to take your place."

"So, that's all I am to you?" He stared at her, angry and hurt. "Fine. If you want to go sleeping around, don't let me stop you." Linda shrugged as she grabbed her bags. "But that makes you no better than Lucy."

"If that's what you think," Linda said, heading for the door. She stopped and turned around. "You know, I wanted you to be the person I shared this with, because I really liked you, but it's clear you don't feel the same way about me. Your loss." She headed out the door into the living room.

Jimmy had tears in his eyes, but he kept his voice low and soft. "Someday I hope you realize how wrong you are." He heard the front door open and then slam shut. The young photographer sighed as he curled his legs into his chest, resting his chin on his knees, willing himself not to cry as he literally felt his heart breaking.

(End of Chapter 4) 


	5. Chapter 5

- - - -  
The outside of the Atlantis nightclub bustled with activity as people mingled and lights flashing. Security guarded the single entrance, along with a guy holding a clipboard. A valet stood near the curb as cars drove up, dropping their passengers off in hopes they would be chosen to enter the inner sanctum. People protested and begged as they waited behind a roped off area, but the guy with the clipboard ignored them on.

Suddenly, a pearlized white Lamborghini pulled up, the driver's side closest to the curb. Animated lights ran the length of the side runners and in concentric circles on the hub caps, giving the appearance of motion and energy even after the car had stopped. Everyone stared as the door opened and Linda stepped out of the car, looking around with a sultry smile on her face, a small black purse on her shoulder. She turned to the valet - who was all but staring at her, drooling - and she held up the key.

"Do me a favor," she said. "If you get my bags from the car and don't peek, I'll give you the car." She ran a finger down the valet's face. "What do you say, big boy?"

The valet chuckled nervously. "Okay," he replied, his voice cracking a little.

Linda patted his cheek and smiled before heading up to the clipboard guy as everyone stared at her, especially the men. One girl smacked the guy she was with before walking off, and Linda grinned, loving the attention she was receiving. She reached clipboard guy.

"Hi," she said. "I want in."

"Uh," the guy said, slowly, forgetting what he was going to say for a moment. "Uh . . . you on the list?"

"No, sorry," Linda replied. She reached into her purse and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. "But my friend Franklin is." The guy just stared at her; Linda reached into her purse again and pulled out another hundred dollar bill. "He has a twin too."

"Uh, you got an ID on ya?" Clipboard Guy asked.

Linda stared right into his eyes, gazing right into his mind. "I don't need an ID, do I?" she asked.

"No, you don't," Clipboard Guy said, his eyes slightly clouded over. He unclipped one side of the rope. "Go on in, Miss."

"Thanks," Linda said sweetly, walking through, smirking as some people behind her protested. She stopped and turned to the clipboard guy. "Oh, can I get the best table here?"

"Sure," Clipboard Guy said. He turned to one of the security guys near the door. "Joey, show the lady the best table in the house."

Joey nodded and opened the door leading into the club. Linda sauntered in, hips swinging, and Joey followed her. The valet, carrying both her duffle bags, followed behind him.

Inside, the club was really rocking. Loud dance music blared at full volume out of every speaker, lights flashed wildly, and scantily clad dancers packed the dance floor. A few guys stared appreciatively at Linda as she followed Joey through the mass to the far side where a single staircase led to a private balcony; Linda followed him up, with the valet behind her.

Jayson Maverick sat on the long plush black sofa, a couple of young girls teasing him and giggling as he drank his martini. The rest of his group – about thirty in total - was spread out around balcony, at the tables and chairs, drinking and mingling.

"Mr. Maverick," Joey said, shouting over the blaring music. Jayson and the rest of his group, looked over.

"What?" Jayson asked, annoyed.

"Scram," Joey said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

"What?" Jayson asked, getting to his feet. "Who said?"

Me," Linda said, walking out from behind Joey. "Place is mine now, and I want to be alone."

Jayson sized her up, then he lean forward slowly to put his drink down, smiling slowly; his expression clearly showed he was calculating what could be a very hot little tumble, or a very sweet wager. Some of the girls looked Linda up and down with expressions that clearly said 'what does she think she is?'

Linda could 'hear' each little perverted thought in Jayson's head, but she simply smiled, uninterested. "You deaf?" she asked. "Joey said to beat it, so beat it."

Jayson's smile faded as he got to his feet. "Look, here, honey, you think I give a rat's a what Joey says?"

"I don't care if you do or not," Linda replied. "I just want you outta here before I toss you headfirst over the balcony."

Jayson laughed as he walked over, eyeing Linda up and down. "That would be something I would love to see, sugar."

Linda tilted her head. "Obsessed with food names - how very . . . juvenile."

"You know, you're kinda cute," Jayson said. "Why don't we clear everyone out of here, and you and I can get to know each other a little better?"

Linda smiled. "That would be fun, wouldn't it?" she asked. She beckoned him over with her finger. "You know what would be even more fun?"

"What?" Jasyon asked, his smile growing.

Linda grabbed his tie and yanked him over to the balcony. Grabbing the back part of his belt, she hoisted him easily over the balcony, holding him halfway over as he stared down, screaming and shouting. The music was so loud and the place so dark that no one below noticed the commotion.

"I could let you go, and your brains would splatter all over the dance floor," she said, her voice deadly serious. "'Course, that would be more fun for me than you." She hoisted him back over until he was standing, gasping for air, looking absolutely terrified. "Now, you gonna leave?" She glanced over and everyone from Jayson's party had already cleared out; the valet had dropped Linda's bags near the couch. "Your friends have already gone; if you know what's good for you, you'll join them." She let go of Jayson, and the man scrambled for the stairs. He reached them, then he stopped and turned around, frowning.

"You know, my boss won't be too thrilled when I tell him what happened here," Jasyon said. "He tends to take things personally."

"Who's your boss?" Linda asked.

"Lex Luthor," Jayson said, expecting to see her get all worried; the smile on her face only grew larger as she folded her arms.

"Give Lex my regards," she replied.

Jayson raised an eyebrow at her calmness, then he narrowed his eyes before heading down the stairs.

Linda sighed with satisfaction as she walked over to Joey. She removed a hundred from her purse and handed it to him. "Thanks, Joey," she said.

"No problem," Joey replied, taking the money, smiling. "Anything else I can do for you?"

Linda smiled. "'Sex on the Beach,'" she said. Joey raised an eyebrow. "Calm down, boy, I'm talking about the drink." 

Joey looked visibly relieved, then he frowned. "You old enough to drink?"

Linda pulled another bill out and tucked it in his shirt pocket. "Does it matter?" she asked.

"Not to me," Joey replied, smiling.

Linda smiled and walked over to the long couch as Joey headed down the stairs. Linda sat down and grabbed what was left of Jayson's martini. She slowly sipped it and grimaced at the alcoholic taste. The grimace slowly turned into a grin as she finished the drink, licking her lips in delight, and tossed the glass aside. It shattered on the floor, and Linda giggled as she stretched out on the couch, sighing with content, deciding she didn't need a man to have a good time – at least, not for the time being.

- - - -

It was a few minutes to midnight, and Linda had been up in her private room for almost twenty minutes. She had downed the same number of 'Sex on the Beach' drinks, thankful that her telepathy allowed her to convince Joey – and sending the same 'vibes' to the bartender - that alcohol basically had no effect on her. It didn't for the most part, but it did take the edge off her – slightly – and it only lasted for a couple of seconds.

"Hey, kid," Joey shouted from the bottom of the stairs over the blaring music. Linda winced as her superhearing kicked in, amplifying every single noise in the Atlantis tenfold. The young girl groaned and put her hands to her ears, shutting her eyes in pain. "Kid!" Her hearing went back to normal, and Linda gasped softly. "Kid!"

Linda quickly composed herself. "What?" she yelled back.

"You got a visitor!"

"Who is it?"

"He wouldn't give his name; he just said he's been looking forward to seeing you all night!"

Linda hesitated. "What does he look like?"

"Tall, black hair, green eyes, wearing black."

Linda smiled. Tall dark, and most likely handsome. "Send him up!" She slowly stretched at turned over on her stomach, propping herself on her arms. Her smile faded when she saw her visitor standing at the top of the stairs. "What are you doing here?"

The visitor stood tall, dressed in a three piece black suit. He eyed the young girl and whistled. "You know, I never pictured you in black leather, but you make it work nicely."

Linda wasn't impressed as she got to her feet, crossing her arms. "I hope you don't think I'm going back to the farm, Clark."

"Kal."

Linda raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"It's not Clark anymore," the young man said as he sauntered over. "It's Kal." His smile faded. "You got a problem with that, cuz?"

Linda titled her head. "Well, this is a side of you I've never seen before," she said. "Too bad I'm not buying it."

"Why do you say that?" Kal asked.

"Because you don't have this," Linda replied, pointing at her necklace. "Apparently, the Kents think this is dangerous, and it doesn't take a genius to make a connection between me putting this necklace on to how great it's made me feel. Sadly, Kal, you don't have one."

Kal simply smiled and held up his wrist, showing off a wide pewter bracelet with twin large red jewels that glistened slightly in the light. "It's not the necklace," he said. "It's the stone in the necklace; it's red kryptonite."

"Red kryptonite?" Linda asked. "Can't be. Kryptonite kills us."

"Not this stuff," Kal said. "Green stuff kills us; red stuff makes us act like we're supposed to."

Linda probed his mind, but she couldn't sense that he was lying. She nodded. "Okay, that I'll believe, but where did you get those? And why?"

"Let's just say I've had it with the superhero gig," Kal answered. "All you get are headaches and whiny people. I want a little fun in my life again." Linda nodded, and Kal looked at the table, seeing the twenty empty highball glasses. "Looks like you've been having some fun on your own already."

"Yeah, I've had 'Sex on the Beach' twenty times," Linda replied. She finished the half filled glass, then she tossed it aside; the glass shattered when it hit the floor. "Actually, make that twenty one times." She smiled. "Wanna join me for another round?"

Kal grinned. "Sure." Linda snapped her fingers, and Joey came up.

"Joey, I'd like two more drinks." Joey nodded and left, leaving the cousins alone. "So, what brings you here, Kal? You want a handout?"

Kal chuckled. "You wish. Actually, I have a business deal for you."

Linda tilted her head, interested. "Really? Do tell."

"Well, I was impressed with the work you did in Smallville," Kal replied. "Also with the stores here in Metropolis. And believe me, I don't impress easily. Now, it's clear that you have everything down pat, but think of what we can do when we team up together; no one would be able to stop us."

"No one can stop me now," Linda replied.

"Yeah, but it doesn't hurt to have a little protection," Kal said. "Besides, I know a little more about city life than you; I could get us this great place nearby really cheap. What do you say?"

Linda slowly smiled. "Sure," she replied as Joey returned with their drinks. The two clinked their drinks silently then gulped down the beverages. "So, where is this place?"

"You wanna go now?" Kal asked.

"Sure," Linda answered. The two got to their feet. "Oh, Kal, be a doll; get my bags, will you?" Kal grabbed Linda's bags, and the two headed down the stairs and out of the club. "So, where to now?"

"Follow me," Kal replied. He headed down the street, Linda close to his side. They walked past the building, then Kal abruptly turned into a back alley. Linda stopped, but Kal beckoned her, smiling. "Shortcut." Linda smiled and followed.

The two were about halfway in the alley when they heard the sounds of a couple of guns clicking. They turned around and saw Jayson standing there with one of the guys from the club; both were pointing guns at the two cousins.

"Didn't I get my point across to you at the club?" Linda asked, folding her arms. "I'm not interested – no matter how big your gun is."

"Oh, you made yourself quite clear," Jayson growled. "One thing I forgot to mention before I left: I don't like being made a fool of, especially by some little chippy in a leather skirt."

"Then you might want to leave," Linda replied. "Otherwise, you'll be more than made a fool of."

Jayson snorted. "And just what do you plan on doing? In case you didn't notice, I got a gun pointed right at you." He blinked, and suddenly Linda had vanished. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused.

"Your point?" Jayson turned around and saw Linda standing behind him.

"What the hell?" Jayson asked. Linda grabbed him around the neck, hoisting him off the ground. 

"Hell hath no fury like me," Linda replied. She felt a gun pressed against the side of her head; she glanced to her side and saw the other guy pointing his gun at her temple.

"Put him down, bh," he said. A split second later, Kal had grabbed the guy by the front of his shirt, hoisting him into the air.

"That's no way to talk to a lady," Kal said. He glanced over as Linda grabbed Jasyon's gun and easily crushed it in her hands. Then she tossed Jayson into the air. He went flying into an open dumpster twenty feet away. She turned to her cousin as he took a finger and quickly flicked the other guy in the face, knocking him out instantly. Then he gently tossed him into a pile of garbage bags.

"Well, that was fun," Linda said walking down the alley. "Let's go."

"I don't think so, Linda." Linda stopped and slowly turned around. Kal was standing next to the duffel bags, staring at Linda. 

"What are you talking about?" Linda asked. She narrowed her eyes, then she tilted her head slightly; she immediately recognized the determined expression on the face of the man standing before her. She smiled coolly. "Hello, Clark."

"It's over, Linda," he said, his voice steady. "I'm not going to let you hurt anyone else."

(End of Chapter 5) 


	6. Chapter 6

- - - -

Clark stood tall as he watched Linda clap. He was a little put off, not used to seeing his baby cousin – his adopted sister – acting like this. He was worried, but he was more scared, knowing what she had already done, knowing what she was capable of.

"Bravo," Linda said. "Great acting skills, Clark; you even fooled me." She glanced at his wrist. "So, where did you get that?"

"That's not important, Linda," Clark said. He sighed. "Look, I know you might think you feel really great right now, doing everything you've been doing, but trust me, it's only a mask. You don't realize what you're really doing."

Linda narrowed her eyes. "I know exactly what I'm doing, Clark – and I'm loving every minute of it."

Clark gave her a sad look. "No, honey, you don't. And that makes what I'm about to do break my heart."

Linda raised an eyebrow as she folded her arms. All of a sudden a loud high-pitched sound filled her ears, piercing her eardrums and pulsing through her head. Linda cried out, covering her ears, falling to her knees. She blinked back tears of pain as she looked up at her cousin, seeing him standing there.

"What are you doing to me?" she shouted as she slowly got to her feet, still hunched over a bit. She tried to use her telekinesis, but she couldn't focus with the sound; the same with her heat vision.

"Believe me, Linda, I don't want to do this," Clark said, backing up. "But I have no choice."

Linda edged toward her cousin, but she was suddenly attacked from behind. She went tumbling head over heels before she was pinned on her back. The young girl looked up and saw Batman sitting on her legs, pinning her wrists down.

"You!" she growled, her eyes like daggers as she stared up at the dark knight. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"Helping a friend," Batman said calmly.

"I'll kill you!" she shouted, her eyes glowing orange. Two heat beams shot out, and hit Batman in the left shoulder. Batman felt the searing heat burn through his costume, hitting skin, and he shouted out in pain, but he kept a firm grip on the young girl, knowing if he let go, he'd be feeling it in the morning.

Linda squirmed and struggled under the Gothamite's grip. The noise felt like a hot poker was being jammed into her head. She willed herself to fight through it, and finally she managed to focus. She brought her legs up, kicking Batman off her. He went flying into the air and slammed into a brick wall, slumping to the ground, groaning. The young girl glared at him, chest heaving, edging towards the dark knight, when she was grabbed from behind in a bear hug.

"Linda, stop it!" Clark said, struggling against her. "We're here to help you!"

"Leave me alone!" she shouted as she squirmed free, turned around, and slammed her fist into Clark's face, sending him flying back the length of the alley. He slowly sat up, groaning, surprised that Linda had packed as big a punch as she did. He rubbed his jaw, knowing it was going to be sore for a while, then he looked down the alley.

Linda walked over to where Batman was on the ground, groaning in pain. When he saw her approaching, he reached into a compartment on his belt and pulled out Lex's kryptonite ring, holding it up. The young girl immediately felt its radiation hit her. Her stomach started turning in knots, and she fell to her knees in pain, but she still had enough strength in her. She had a hard time concentrating through the pain from the kryptonite and the hypersonic sounds, but she focused her attention on the kryptonite ring.

Clark's eyes went wide when he saw her eyes glow fiery orange. "Linda, no!" he shouted just as two beams of heat shot out from her eyes. He saw the beams hit the polished green rock in the ring and reflect, sending a green bolt of light back at the young girl, hitting her directly in the eyes. She fell back, clutching the sides of her head in pain.

Clark hurried over to his cousin and knelt beside her. "Linda, are you okay?" he asked. Linda blinked repeatedly as she sat up. She looked around, dazed and disoriented, but she didn't say anything. Clark put a hand on her shoulder, and Linda lashed out.

"Get away from me!" she shouted, throwing her arm out. She hit Clark in the gut, knocking him back. He slammed into the dumpster, denting in, groaning. He winced as he sat up and looked at his cousin. She was crawling on the floor, looking scared and confused as she tried feeling her way around.

Clark looked over at Batman, who had put the kryptonite ring back in his belt and was now watching the young girl with confused curiosity. He glanced up at Clark, and Clark knew they – unfortunately - had the advantage over Linda at the moment, and they had to act – fast. Clark made some motions with his fingers, silently telling Batman what the plan was. Bruce nodded, and then Clark counted down from three with his fingers. After reaching zero the two heroes leapt into action.

Clark tackled his cousin and quickly sat on her legs, pinning her arms behind her. She struggled, shouting, but Clark held fast, even though it felt like wrestling a large angry grizzly bear. Batman moved in, and in one swift motion yanked the necklace off Linda's neck. The radiation was cut off from Linda's body as abruptly as if a switch had been thrown, and she collapsed to the ground with a cry and a gasp. 

As Bruce quickly put the necklace into his utility belt Clark cradled Linda in his arms, looking her over. "Linda, you okay?" he asked softly.

"Clark?" she asked, dazed, her eyes not really focused on anything.

"I'm here, sweetie," he said, rocking her gently. "I'm here."

"Clark," she said, her chin quivering as tears filled her eyes. "I can't see you; it's so dark." She started crying softly, both because of how scared she was and because she started remembering the things she did – all the things she did.

Clark held Linda close to him as she cried into his chest, then he looked up at Batman, but he had already disappeared into the shadows; the two duffel bags were also missing, and Clark knew Bruce had taken them. He sighed and got to his feet, gently holding Linda in his arms. He heard sirens in the distance growing closer.

"Come on, sweetie," he said softly. "Let's get out of here." He slowly rose into the air and flew off into the night sky.

- - - -

Martha silently swept glass into a pile she had started at the end of the hallway. The table was in ruins, and Martha knew it would have to be replaced eventually. All the family photos had been moved to the kitchen table, where Jonathan sat, coat on, gun laying in front of him, ready to go at a moment's notice to rescue his kids if they needed him. Even after everything that had happened Jonathan knew it was not his baby girl who had hurt him. She had been in there, it had been her body, and he knew part of that had to have come from someplace in her, but it was not the child he had been raising for the past five months who had harmed him. The farmer let out a deep sigh just as the door opened, and Clark came in, carrying Linda in his arms. 

Martha and Jonathan looked up, and they both abandoned everything as they hurried over to their children. They could see that Clark looked beaten, physically and emotionally, and he had a wicked left black eye.

"Clark?" Martha asked, whispering. "What happened?" She reached out to touch Clark's cheek, and Clark winced. Martha was a little startled, but she kept silent, looking down at Linda. Linda was curled into Clark's chest in as small a ball as possible. When Jonathan and Martha reached to touch her to make sure she was really there, she flinched away from them, curling into herself, refusing to even look at them.

Martha and Jonathan were shocked and a little hurt, but they knew to expect that kind of reaction with their daughter's delicate psyche. Still, they needed to get Linda out of those clothes and settled back into the safety of her bed. The parents gave Clark a look, silently telling him to take Linda up to her bed. Clark headed up the stairs with Jonathan and Martha close behind. They walked to her room, where Clark gently lay his cousin on her bed. She immediately curled on her side, her back to everyone. 

Martha sat beside her daughter. "Linda?" she said softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Linda flinched and curled away from her mother. Martha fought back tears as she bit her lower lip. She took a deep breath and was about to say something when Clark touched her shoulder; she looked up, and he motioned for them to follow. Martha and Jonathan shared a confused look, but they followed their son out of the room.

"What is it, son?" Jonathan asked after closing Linda's bedroom door. He put a hand on his son's shoulder and peered closely at his son. "Are you okay, Clark? Are you hurt anywhere else?" He started feeling his son's arms gently.

Clark shrugged out of his father's reach, missing the hurt look on Jonathan's face. "No," he said. "I'm just . . . ."

"Clark, what's wrong?" Martha asked.

"It's Linda," Clark replied softly. "She . . . ."

"Son, what is it?" Jonathan gently asked.

Clark looked up at his parents with tears in his eyes. "She's blind."

"What?" Martha asked, her eyes full of concern.

"Clark, how could she be blind?" Jonathan asked. Clark wouldn't answer. "Clark, tell us what happened."

Clark sighed. "I went to see Bruce; I thought he could help. He, uh, came up with a way to stop Linda without using kryptonite."

"What was it?" Martha asked.

Clark pulled a set of high-tech earplugs from his ears. "Psionic buffers," he replied. "It was to keep her from using her telepathy on us; Bruce made two sets – one for him and one for me. He also made a hypersonic transmitter; it was like Jimmy's but ten times as loud. Bruce said it would mess up her focus so she couldn't use her telekinesis or heat vision on us."

"How could you be there if he used it?" Jonathan asked.

"The psionic buffers also blocked the waves," Clark replied.

"So, how did Linda go blind?" Martha asked.

Clark took a deep breath. "We didn't have time to test them, so Bruce grabbed Lex's kryptonite ring as a back up; I okayed it, but only as a last resort."

"Clark, I told you not to use kryptonite on her," Jonathan said, his voice low with anger.

"Dad, she was out of control," Clark replied. "She focused through the hypersonic sound and zapped Bruce in the shoulder with her heat vision, then she threw us both around like rag dolls." He took a shaky breath. "She was going to kill Bruce; he pulled out the ring, but she still fired her heat vision at him. It hit the ring and backfired at her, hitting her in the eyes. She went down, and we were able to get the necklace off her." He could see how hard his father was trying not to lash out in anger; Clark shrank a little, his eyes welling up with tears, his voice cracking. "Dad, I'm so sorry; I tried to warn her, but I was too late . . . I'm sorry." He took a couple of shrinking steps back, then he stuttered out 'I'm sorry' once more before fleeing down the stairs.

"Clark," Jonathan called out before heading after his son as fast as his limp would allow him. He hurried down the stairs into the kitchen, looking around. Clark wasn't there, and he saw the kitchen door open. Sighing, he grabbed his coat and keys and limped out as he shrugged into his coat. He headed for the truck and got in. He had just put the key in the ignition when he glanced up and stopped short; a dark figure was huddled in the shadows over Linda's bedroom window. Jonathan closed his eyes and sighed, getting out of the truck and heading towards the barn.

(End of Chapter 6) 


	7. Chapter 7

- - - -

Martha sat on the bed by her daughter as Linda lay curled up, her back to her mother. Martha just watched the young girl, not saying anything, not knowing what to do. She wanted to get Linda out of those leather clothes and into a nice pair of pajamas, but every time she touched Linda's shoulder she'd flinch and jerk away from her mother. It hurt, more than Martha would care to admit, but she knew it wasn't anything personal.

"Linda?" she asked softly. "Are you sure you don't want to get out of those clothes? You might feel better."

"I can't see," Linda replied, her voice the smallest of a whisper, barely audible. "I'll never be better."

"Linda, I know being blind is scary," Martha said, "but we'll get through it; we did it with Clark, and we'll do it with you." She reached out to touch Linda's shoulder, and Linda flinched again; Martha pulled her hand back, a little hurt.

"I don't deserve to see again," Linda replied. "Not after what I did."

"Linda, you can't mean that," Martha said. "You can't blame yourself for what happened; it wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was," Linda said softly. "It was me who robbed the bank and all those stores in Metropolis . . . it was me who stole that money . . . it was me who misused my powers . . . and it was me who hurt you and everyone else. No one else – just me."

"Linda, it wasn't you," Martha said. "You were under the effects of something you had no control over – basically a drug; no one is mad at you for the things you said or did, because we know it wasn't really you."

"But it was," Linda replied tearfully. "Even without the red kryptonite I have those feelings: I hate following the rules, hate being told what to do, hate Mr. Hynes for how he treats us, and hate having to keep my secret from my friends."

"What happened to Mr. Hynes?" Martha asked softly. "I used my powers on him and made him think he was going crazy," Linda answered. "He was taken to Belle Reeve." She started shaking as she cried. "What kind of a monster am I?"

"Linda, you are not a monster," Martha said. "You are my daughter."

"I am a monster," Linda replied. "Clark told me when he was pretending to be Kal was that the ring makes us who we're really supposed to be."

"I am a monster," Linda replied. "Clark told me when he was pretending to be Kal was that the ring makes us who we're really supposed to be."

"Linda, it doesn't," Martha said.

"But I've had those feelings for a long time," Linda replied. "Even the ones about Jimmy."

"What about Jimmy?" Martha asked. Linda suddenly shrank in on herself and curled up away from her mother, crying softly. Martha was very curious, but she decided not to pursue that – or anything else – until after Linda was out of those clothes. "Linda, honey, do you feel up to changing now; you might be more comfortable into something warmer and softer." She glanced over as Krypto and Streaky slowly ventured in and padded over to the bed. They carefully jumped onto the bed and walked over to their mistress. They sniffed her for a few moments before cuddling with her, laying next to her.

Linda couldn't see her pets at all, but she could feel them as they cuddled next to her, their soft fur warm against her. She was confused, wondering why they were even around her when they should have been scared of her. She did a gentle probe and found no signs of fear coming from them, nothing but unconditional love and a sense of relief that their mistress was back where she belonged.

Martha reached out and touched Linda's shoulder again. Linda didn't flinch that time, and Martha closed her eyes with relief. She carefully got up from the bed and walked over to Linda's dresser, opening one of the drawers and pulling out two sets of pajamas: her farm animal set and a powder blue set with clouds on them. She walked back over and sat on the bed. "Okay, Linda," she said softly, her voice soothing. "I've got your farm animal pajamas, and I've got your powder blue pajamas. Which one do you want to wear?"

"Doesn't matter," Linda mumbled. "I can't see it anyway."

Martha bit her lower lip to keep from crying; she took a deep breath, composing herself. "Well, I think you look beautiful in both, but you've always found the cloud ones to be soothing; we'll wear those, okay?" Linda didn't answer, but she didn't fight or struggle and Martha began undressing her daughter, getting her into more comfortable clothes. When she was through Martha tucked Linda under the sheets, and Krypto and Streaky curled up next to her. Martha just sat next to Linda; she didn't talk or move, knowing there would be time later to sort through the entire ordeal, and it would take a long time to heal. For now, she was just grateful her daughter was back where she belonged. She gazed out Linda's bedroom window, praying that her husband would find their son and bring him home too – and they could once again be together.

- - - -  
Clark sat on the roof, his legs curled up under him, his head resting on his knees. He tried to keep himself from crying, but he couldn't help it; his body shook as he sobbed softly. He couldn't help but feel responsible for all the stuff that happened; if he had been more perceptive, then maybe his cousin wouldn't be blaming herself for all the stuff that had happened.

"Clark?"

Clark looked over, startled, as his father appeared over the edge of the roof. His arm was still in a sling, and he carried an ice pack in his good hand. The farmer smoothly climbed onto the roof without holding the ladder and walked over to where his son sat. Clark started to get up as Jonathan sat down, but Jonathan grabbed his wrist, keeping his son where he sat. He took the ice pack and gently put it over Clark's eye, more to show his concern for his son's well-being as opposed to actual physical comfort.

"You okay, son?" Jonathan asked softly.

"How can I be okay?" Clark asked, his voice cracking. "Linda's hurting, because of me."

"Clark, you can't blame yourself for this," Jonathan replied.

"Dad, you were right; if I hadn't let Bruce take the kryptonite, then she wouldn't have gone blind."

Jonathan sighed. "Clark, I'm sorry I got angry; I didn't mean to."

"But I couldn't stop her without hurting her," Clark said. "It hurt so much to see her in pain . . . and to know that was the only way to stop her."

"I know, son. I felt the same way when I had to use green kryptonite on you the first time you were affected."

"Yeah, but you didn't blind me in the process," Clark said bitterly.

"No, I didn't," Jonathan replied, "but, Clark, you didn't either. What happened was an accident. She was out of control; you couldn't have known she would do something like that."

"I should have considered all options," Clark said. "That's what I do."

"Clark, you're only one man," Jonathan said. "No one expects you to have all the answers; I don't even have all the answers, but I do know one thing: we can't blame ourselves for this, because doing that takes away from helping Linda – and right now she's going to need all the help she can get." He put his good hand on his son's shoulder. "I just need to know you're okay first."

Clark sighed. He still felt bad for what happened to his baby cousin, and he wanted to say that his well-being shouldn't be a concern, but he knew his father would get mad at that. Besides, Jonathan he was right: Clark needed to worry about Linda, about helping her get through what had happened to her - and the only one in the family who knew what it was like to be blind was him.

"I'm still upset," Clark replied. "And my eye hurts a little . . . but I'll be okay, I guess."

"I think it's going to take a while for all of us to be okay, son," Jonathan replied sadly. "But we'll do it together." He wrapped his arm around his son and pulled him close into a hug. Clark stiffened at first, but he quickly succumbed, hugging his father as tightly as he dared. Some time passed before Jonathan pulled back and looked at his son.

"Do you want to come inside now?" Jonathan asked. Clark shook his head. "Clark."

"Dad, Linda left a little mess in Metropolis," Clark replied. "I think I should clean it up first. Besides, I want to check on Bruce; Linda did a number on him."

Jonathan nodded. "Do you promise to come back afterwards?" 

Clark slowly nodded. "I promise."

"Good. Oh, and son, can you answer me a couple questions before you go?"

"Sure."

"First of all, what's with the bracelet?" Jonathan nodded at the jewelry on his son's wrist.

"A gift from a friend," Clark replied. "I tricked Linda into thinking I was under the influence as Kal to get close enough to her; it worked. I guess I need to return it to its owner."

Jonathan nodded. "Okay," he said. "Now, would this also explain why I smelled alcohol when you brought Linda back?"

Clark looked a little sheepish. "Well, I found Linda in a nightclub . . . she had downed twenty-one 'Sex on the Beach' drinks in less than half an hour." He shrugged. "And then we had one together."

Jonathan pursed his lips, trying to process his children and the word 'sex' in the same statement. "Okay," he said slowly. "Well, uh . . . thank you for being honest with me, Clark." The two stood up slowly. "Now, before you leave, you want to give me a hand off this roof?"

Clark smiled and grabbed his father around the waist, gently floating off the roof to the ground. Jonathan hugged his son one last time before Clark handed back the ice pack and changed into his costume. The young man took to the skies and headed east; Jonathan watched him disappear before heading back into the house.

- - - -

Linda was emotionally exhausted, but she couldn't sleep, even with Martha rubbing her back and speaking softly to her as her pets curled up beside her. It was scary being in the dark like that, knowing her eyes were fully open; it reminded her of her life in Argo City. Martha looked up as she heard a small creak and saw Jonathan as he walked in. 

"Did you find Clark?" she asked.

"He and I talked," Jonathan replied. "He's going to Metropolis and then to Gotham to check on a few things,"

"You mean to clean up after me," Linda said softly.

Jonathan walked over and sat on the other side of Linda. "Honey, you can't beat yourself up over this; this wasn't your fault."

"I robbed, stole, told my friends Clark and me were aliens, used my powers to make my teacher think he was crazy, fought, drank, and -" She stopped, turning her head away in shame.

"And what?" Martha asked. She tilted her head. "Linda, honey, does this have anything to do with Jimmy?"

"I . . .," Linda said, her voice wavering. Tears spilled down her cheeks. "I didn't mean to."

"Didn't mean to what?" Jonathan asked.

Linda hiccupped a little. "I went to see Jimmy," she said. "I wanted to . . . I mean . . . ."

Jonathan sighed softly, rubbing a hand over his face, knowing what his daughter wasn't saying. Martha glanced at her husband briefly, wondering if he needed to leave for the time being, but she knew that as delicate as the subject was Jonathan would not be leaving their daughter. She took a deep breath as she looked at Linda.

"Linda?" she asked gently. "Did you and Jimmy have sex?"

"No," she replied. "We almost did – Jimmy stopped it."

Jonathan looked over, furrowing his eyebrows, a little surprised – and a lot relieved. He let out the breath he'd been holding, doing his best not to cheer. "Well, that's a good thing; a very good thing."

"Yeah, but . . .," Linda trailed off.

"But what?" Martha asked.

"But what if I hadn't stopped?" Linda asked. "I wanted . . . I mean, I . . . so bad . . . and what if I didn't get bored and leave his apartment?"

"But, Linda, honey, you did," Martha said.

"But what if I hadn't?" Linda asked. "He told me to leave, and I did, but what if I hadn't?" She shook her head. "I never would have forgiven myself."

"But I would have."

Jonathan and Martha looked over when they heard the soft voice and saw Jimmy in the doorway, looking small and out of place as he stood hunched over, his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"Jimmy," Martha said. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to get some answers," Jimmy replied in a low voice. He shrugged. "I figured this would be the place." He saw Linda on the bed, curled up, and he knew whatever it was that had happened to her was over, but there was still a lot of work that needed to be done. He wanted to go to her, but he was afraid – and he didn't know if he'd be welcomed. Jonathan and Martha shared a look before getting up, assuring Linda they'd be back. They headed out of the bedroom and closed the door behind them.

"Jimmy, I think we know why you're here," Jonathan replied. "Now, I -"

"Look, Mr. Kent, if you want me to leave," Jimmy interrupted, "then I'll leave; I just want to know what's wrong with Linda."

Jonathan sighed. "Jimmy, we don't want you to leave," he said. He saw the look Martha was giving him, and he nodded; he turned back to Jimmy. "In fact, we think it might be a good idea if you and Linda had a few words, but there are a few things you need to know before we let you go in there."

"Such as?" Jimmy asked.

"First of all, she wasn't herself," Jonathan answered.

"She was on red kryptonite," Martha added.

"Red?" Jimmy asked, confused.

"It affects the emotions and twists them around into something . . . horrible," Jonathan replied.

"But where did she - " Jimmy stopped when the realization hit him. "The necklace." He closed his eyes. "It's my fault - it's all my fault."

"No, it's not, Jimmy," Martha replied. "You didn't know about it; we do not blame you for this one bit; we didn't even recognize it until just before Linda attacked us."

"So, you don't get to blame yourself - we won't let you," Jonathan added. He took a deep breath. "And one more thing." He saw Jimmy tense. "We'll talk more about this later, but we want to tell you how proud we are of you for not taking advantage of Linda - even though we know it must have been pretty hard." Jimmy raised an eyebrow, and Jonathan gave him a knowing look. "Jimmy, I was a teenager once, and I know how you feel about my daughter – regardless of the fact that you two mutually agreed to be friends." He put a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "Now, Martha and I are going to go downstairs and finish cleaning up. Why don't you go talk with Linda; might do you both a world of good."

Jimmy hesitated at first, but he slowly nodded. Then he finally noticed the cuts and bruises, and Jonathan's arm splint. "Did she really attack you guys?" he asked.

"No," Jonathan said firmly. "She was in there, and we know that part of what happened came from somewhere within her, but it was not Linda who attacked us." He squeezed Jimmy's shoulder gently.

"Jimmy, there's something else you need to know," Martha said. "Clark and Bruce had to fight Linda in order to get the necklace off her. During the fight, Linda used her heat vision when Bruce tried to use green kryptonite to stop her; the beams reflected through the kryptonite back at her, hitting her eyes."

Jimmy furrowed his eyebrows. "What happened, Mrs. Kent?"

Martha swallowed. "She's blind, Jimmy."

"What?" Jimmy asked softly. "For how long?"

"We don't know," Jonathan asked. He squeezed Jimmy's shoulder again. "But don't blame yourself for that either. We'll deal with it, okay?" He nudged Jimmy toward the door. "If you need us we'll be downstairs."

Jimmy slowly nodded, but he still felt responsible for the entire mess. He hesitated, but then he grabbed the doorknob. He looked up as Martha and Jonathan headed down the stairs, then he took a deep breath and opened the door. "Linda?" he asked softly.

Linda tensed when she heard Jimmy calling her name, and she attempted to bury herself into the pillows as Jimmy came in and closed the door behind him. He slowly walked over and sat on the bed, watching Linda for a few minutes before reaching out to touch her shoulder. She flinched, and Jimmy felt his stomach knot, but he forced himself to keep his composure.

"Linda?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

"What do you think?" Linda asked softly.

Jimmy sighed. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Linda replied. "I don't blame you either." Jimmy tilted his head. "I heard everything, and they're right; you didn't know, and I don't blame you for this. This whole mess was because of me, and I understand if you don't want to be around me anymore."

"Linda, if I didn't want to be around you, I wouldn't have come out here," he said. "And if you think what happened between us in Metropolis changes that then we need to talk." He sighed. "Linda, when you showed up in my room the way you did, I was really flattered."

"Flattered?" Linda asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "I've dated a few girls, but none of them ever thought I was 'worthy' enough to even be considered for . . . that." He blushed a little. "And to be honest, you're the first girl I've ever considered . . . being with like that."

"How so?" Linda asked.

"Because you're the only one I've ever really felt completely comfortable around," Jimmy replied. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she didn't flinch. "Can you turn around for me? Please?" He waited and after a while Linda slowly turned around, facing him. He smiled as he stared at her, noticing how she stared off into the distance. He carefully shifted to lay beside her, propping himself on his side. "There, that's much better." He sighed. "Now, before we talk, you wanna fill me in on what happened?" Linda hesitated, but after a time she slowly nodded as tears filled her eyes.

(End of Chapter 7) 


	8. Chapter 8

- - - -

Bruce winced as Alfred wrapped the businessman's torso. The two were in the medical wing of the cave, and Alfred tended to Bruce's injuries after the young man returned from Metropolis. At first, seeing how beaten up Bruce was when he arrived home Alfred was sure the young man had tangled with a lion or grizzly bear as opposed to a sixteen-year-old girl, even if the girl was super-powered. He quickly examined Bruce and assessed the young man's injuries: three broken ribs, a silver dollar sized flesh wound on Bruce's shoulder where Linda had used her heat vision, and numerous bumps and bruises. Add on the broken nose he received earlier from Clark . . . and Alfred knew it just wasn't Bruce's day.

"Sir, might I suggest you getting some rest?" Alfred asked. "You've had a busy night."

"There's still work to do, Alfred," Bruce said.

"Bruce, I have to agree with Alfred on this one." Bruce and Alfred looked up and saw Superman standing in the shadows. Bruce glowered a little.

"You would, Kent," he said. He paused. "So, how's Linda?"

"Well, she's . . .," Superman replied slowly, a hint of pain and guilt in his voice. "Well, she's blind. It happened when she used her heat vision on the kryptonite ring."

"Is it permanent?" Bruce asked, trying not to sound or look concerned.

"Shouldn't be," Superman answered. "It wasn't with me."

"Knowing Miss Linda, she'll be seeing in no time," Alfred said. He paused, trying to come up with the right words concerning Linda's other predicament, but he felt it best to remain quiet. He gave Superman a sympathetic expression before going back to tending to Bruce.

"How are you, Bruce?" Superman asked.

"Fine," Bruce said curtly.

"Sir," Alfred said, "you sustained three broken ribs, a deep second degree burn on your shoulder, and an assortment of bumps and bruises."

"Bruce, I'm sorry about what happened. I just -"

"Clark, I said I'm fine," Bruce interrupted. "So, now you can go home and tell everyone I'm fine."

"Actually, I came for the bags," Superman replied. "And another favor."

"What?" Bruce asked.

"I need to take the stolen goods back to their rightful places," Superman replied. "And the money back to the bank." He glanced to the side and saw an unfamiliar lead box on a nearby table; he took a deep breath. "And I want to know where Jimmy bought that necklace."

"Thinking of getting a matching set of earrings?" Bruce asked wryly. Alfred smacked him gently on the head. "Ow."

Superman let the comment slide, knowing the only reason Bruce was being so py was that he had gotten beaten up by a sixteen-year-old girl. "I was thinking we could drop by and see if he's got any other jewelry that's . . . not what it seems." He smirked slightly. "Unless you don't think you're up to it." Bruce scowled and got up, grabbing his side and wincing in pain. Alfred frowned and put a hand on Bruce's shoulder, pushing the businessman back into a sitting position. 

"I'm afraid that at the moment," Alfred said, "Master Bruce will be getting some rest." He turned to Superman. "And I suggest you tend to what you need to and get some rest too, sir." He walked over and grabbed the two bags, handing them to Superman. "When you see Miss Linda, give her our regards."

"I will," Superman replied, taking the bags. He turned to leave, then he heard the sound of footsteps padding down the stairs. The three looked over as Dick came down, looking sleepy and rumpled in his Packers t-shirt and black sweat pants; his feet were bare, his hair mussed, and he looked like he'd just woken up.

"What's going on?" he asked. He saw Superman, and he woke up. "Is Linda okay?" He knew about what was going on.

"Not sure," Superman replied honestly. He removed the bracelet and walked over to Dick, handing it to him. "Thank you for your help, Dick."

"It worked?" Dick asked, taking the bracelet, cradling it like it was a fragile piece of crystal.

Superman nodded. "I'll let Bruce fill in the details," he replied. "I have to go take care of a few things." He grabbed the bags and took to the air, flying out of the caves, leaving the three Gothamites alone. Alfred tended to cleaning up the medical area as Bruce focused on Dick.

"You're supposed to be asleep," Bruce replied. "You have school in the morning."

"What happened?" Dick asked, trying to appear tough. Bruce didn't answer, but Dick wasn't going to give up; he frowned a bit, gathering up his determination. "Bruce, you're covered in bruises and bandages, and something happened with Linda. If we're supposed to be a family, then I have a right to know what happened."

Bruce slowly raised an eyebrow. He glanced at Alfred and saw the butler had to really control himself and not cheer for the young boy. Bruce was impressed, and he turned back to Dick, who had his feet planted firmly on the cold floor. The Dark Knight sighed and beckoned Dick over, pointing to a nearby seat.

"Sit," Bruce replied. Dick sat, and Bruce tried to figure out the best way to tell Dick what had happened that night. "Dick, I -"

"Are you okay?" Dick interrupted, glancing at the bandages wrapped around Bruce's torso.

Bruce stopped, noticing for the first time how worried Dick seemed. His temper softened a bit, and he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I'm okay . . . just a few bumps and bruises." Alfred cleared his throat loudly. "And some broken ribs and a burn on my shoulder." He saw Dick's expression hadn't faltered. "Dick, I got hurt, yes, but I'll be fine. I promise. I'm not going anywhere." He saw Dick relax a bit, but he could tell he still looked worried.

"Why don't I prepare some hot chocolate?" Alfred replied. He eyed Bruce. "And Master Dick could miss one day of school, all things considered, sir." He didn't wait for a response and headed up the stairs, leaving Bruce and Dick to themselves.

- - - -

Jasyon Maverick lay in a hospital bed, his leg in a cast from his ankle up to his hip, and his arm in a sling. His head was bandaged tightly, and he knew the morphine was kicking in, but he was still scared of his recent visitor standing in the shadows, looking down at him, trying to pierce his soul with those dark eyes.

"You mind filling me in on a few things?" Lex asked.

"It wasn't my fault," Jayson mumbled. "It was that blonde bh in the leather skirt."

"Tell me how a teenage girl can take out two of my best security guards," Lex said, his voice deceptively gentle.

"Because she wasn't human," Jayson said. "She moved like lightning, and she crushed my gun in her bare hands before throwing me into a dumpster like it was nothing."

Lex nodded. "And what about Paul?" Paul was the man with Jayson in the alley; he was still unconscious, barely a scratch on him. "Did he just stand by?"

"No, he tried to shoot the bh," he said, "but then this other guy jumped Paul and knocked him out."

"What did he look like?" Lex asked.

"Black suit, dark hair, very tall."

Lex narrowed his eyes as he stood tall, staring out the room window into the night. After a few moments, he smiled back at Jayson. "Thank you, Jayson."

"No sweat, sir," Jayson replied. He watched as Lex pulled a small syringe out of his jacket pocket; it was filled with a clear liquid. "Uh, sir, what's that?"

"Consider it compensation for what happened," Lex said as he took the stopper off the needle.

Jayson's eyes went wide as he tried to reach for the call button, but he was so drugged up he couldn't even lift his head; he tried to shout, but his voice was too soft to be heard. He watched helplessly as Lex put the needle in his IV and injected the contents of the syringe into it.

"Sleep well, Jayson," Lex said, a cruel smile on his lips as he put the stopper back over the needle and the empty syringe back into his pocket. He turned and left the room as drowsiness slowly overcame Jayson. Lex was at the elevators when the code blue alarm sounded; by the time the elevator reached the first floor the former security guard was pronounced dead.

- - - -

Jonathan and Martha finished cleaning up and put the family photos in a separate drawer until they could get new frames and a new hall table. They were exhausted as they put the brooms and dustpans away and decided it was time to get some sleep – after they checked on Jimmy and Linda. They had decided that Jimmy would spend the night. They called his apartment, but no one answered; they still left a message on the answering machine in case his mother came home, letting her know that Jimmy was safe and sound at the farm. The Kents had purposefully left out a lot of the details surrounding the reason for Jimmy's visit, knowing they would need a little more time to come up with something plausible that wouldn't get Jimmy into a lot of trouble.

The phone suddenly rang, and Jonathan quickly answered it. "Hello?" he asked.

"Mr. Kent, it's Pete."

"Hey, Pete, what's up?"

"Clark wanted me to call you and let you know he's going to help clear up some of the mess in Metropolis from Linda's rampage and then catch some shut eye before coming back," Pete explained. "He also wanted me to let you know he returned Linda's money; it's all there, except for the amount Linda used to buy her clothes – and to buy drinks too, if what Clark said was true; Clark filled me in."

"How much is missing total?" Jonathan asked.

"About three thousand dollars," Pete replied.

Jonathan closed his eyes briefly, then he sighed. "They're going to be looking for the missing bills, Pete."

"Don't worry," Pete said. "Linda spent the money in Metropolis, even for the outfit. If the FBI traces the bills there, they won't be able to follow it back to Linda. I mean, think about it – why would Linda steal from herself?"

Jonathan nodded. "I know, Pete; still doesn't make me feel too comfortable. If eve one person could place her in Metropolis . . . ."

"I understand, sir," Pete replied. He sighed. "Well, I'll let you go. Give Linda a hug for me; let her know I'm not mad at her."

"I will, and thanks, Pete. Oh, and get some rest."

"Yes, sir," Pete replied before hanging up. Jonathan hung up too and walked over to his wife as she stood next to the stairs.

"Everything okay?" Martha asked.

"Yeah, Pete has the money – except for the stuff Linda used, and Clark will be spending the night in Metropolis." He explained everything as they headed up the stairs to check on Jimmy and Linda. The door was closed, and they couldn't hear anything from inside the room, so Jonathan slowly opened the door and poked his head inside.

Linda lay curled up in a small ball on the bed. Jimmy lay on his stomach beside her, his face nearly buried into the pillow. Both kids were under the covers, and Jimmy's arm was around her, almost as if he was protecting her from the outside world. Krypto and Streaky were curled up together on their bed in the far corner.

Martha glanced at Jonathan, not sure what his reaction would be seeing Linda and Jimmy in bed together - again. Jonathan simply smiled a little as he walked over and carefully removed Jimmy's socks and shoes from under the covers, putting them on the floor beside the bed. 

Jimmy stirred a bit and opened his eyes, looking around, dazed. "What's going on?" he mumbled.

Jonathan put his hand on Jimmy's back. "Go back to sleep, Jimmy," he said softly. He rubbed Jimmy's back until the teen succumbed to the gentle touch. When he was sure Jimmy was sound asleep, Jonathan stood up and tucked the teens in. "Sleep well." He saw Martha smiling from the doorway. "What?"

"Nothing," Martha replied as she and Jonathan headed out of the room; Jonathan softly closed the door behind him. "Come on, sweetie. We could all use some rest." The two headed for the bedroom for some much needed sleep.

- - - -

A few construction workers watched as Superman hoisted a large piece of a building onto a flatbed truck. It was the last piece of debris that Superman was needed for; he waved to the workers before taking to the skies. He was exhausted and ready for some much needed sleep, even as his thoughts drifted back to Linda, wondering if she was sleeping. As he soared past the LexCorp tower he saw a pattern of flashes and recognized them as Morse Code; the message was simple: 'We need to talk.' Superman sighed; the last thing he wanted to do was deal with Lex at that hour of the night, but he knew Lex would find a way to hound him until he responded – and that usually involved putting innocent people at risk. The hero turned and descended toward the top balcony – where Lex stood, waiting.

"Glad to see you got my message," Lex said as Superman landed.

"What do you want, Luthor?" Superman asked.

"Who is she?" Lex asked.

"What are you talking about?" Superman asked, frowning.

"Don't play games with me, alien," Lex replied, all pretense gone from his voice, his expression dark and foreboding. "My men were attacked outside the Atlantis earlier this evening. One of the assailants fit your description; granted, you wore different clothes, but who else in this city can knock someone out with a mere flick of the finger?"

"You'd be surprised what steroids can do these days," Superman replied curtly. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Lex, and he wanted to just get away; he didn't like the thought of Lex trying to pry into his life.

"Steroids cannot give people the ability to crush guns in their bare hands," Lex said.

"Why would I be hanging out at some nightclub?" Superman asked. "I have better things to do."

"Maybe you were tagging along after a wild super powered teenage girl," Lex answered.

"You're mistaken, Lex," Superman said. "I wasn't at the Atlantis. Whoever attacked your guards must have hit them so hard they got concussions, and their perverted fantasies must have gotten jumbled around."

Lex smiled and chuckled before fixing Superman with a cold stare. "I'm only going to say this once, Superman. As curious as I am about who and where this little girl friend of yours came from, I'm willing to leave her alone, provided that she stays out of my way. As long as she does that, things will stay where they are. If she gets in my way the gloves come off, and I'll make her life a living hell too."

Superman remained calm and kept his arms folded, even though he wanted to reach out and throttle his former friend. He just stared at Lex for a few moments before taking to the sky and flying off. He wanted to go back to Smallville and let his family know what was going on, but he knew they were probably resting, and he didn't want to disturb them. He wasn't worried about Lex – not just yet; Lex might have suspected something, but he didn't suspect Linda, and as long as she remained out of sight, then everything would be okay.

Lex watched with a smug expression on his face as Superman flew off. He was tempted to have someone tail the Man of Steel, but he decided against it. Toying with his enemy like that was much more enjoyable; besides, now the ball was in his court. If Superman stepped out of line Lex would find his little friend – and then he'd use her to bring Superman to his knees.

- - - -

It was nearly four in the morning, and Dick sat on his bed in the dark, holding the bracelet in his hands. He knew he should have been sleeping, but he couldn't; he had too much on his mind: he was worried about what had happened with Linda, but he was really worried about Bruce. The businessman sat him down and explained to him everything that happened, but it didn't make Dick feel any better about Bruce's injuries. The young boy sighed, wondering if he'd ever have the courage to face danger the way Bruce did every night.

"You're supposed to be asleep," a deep voice said with as much gentleness as possible.

"How do you do it?" Dick asked.

Bruce walked over and sat beside Dick. "Do what?"

"Go out every night . . . as him?"

Bruce sighed. "Because it's what I do," he said. "I don't want to, but if I didn't, then a lot of people would be hurting – the way you did when you lost your parents . . . and when I lost mine."

"Were you scared?" Dick asked.

"Does it matter?" Bruce asked.

"Yes," Dick answered.

Bruce sighed. "Dick, I was more scared tonight than I have been in a long time." It felt strange being open with Dick, but it felt . . . right at the same time. "I was scared that I almost hurt someone I cared about."

"But you had to," Dick said. "Linda was out of control."

"I meant you, Dick," Bruce said. Dick looked up, surprised. "I was scared at one point that Linda was going to kill me . . . and if that had happened, I would have hurt you by leaving you." He slowly put an arm around Dick's shoulders, looking at the bracelet. "So, you ready to tell me about this?"

Dick pursed his lips and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "It was a gift from my parents," he said softly. "For my sixteenth birthday . . . a couple months before they were killed." He turned the bracelet around to show the two red rubies. "They only put in two rubies; they said they were eyes."

"What kind of eyes?" Bruce asked.

"Shortly after I turned fifteen," Dick replied slowly, "my dad was working a new trick, no net . . . don't know exactly what happened, but his fingers slipped off the trapeze. I didn't even think – I just used the nearest trapeze and swung out, grabbing him, swinging him to safety. Mom said I swung out there like a robin swooping in at the last minute." He nodded at the bracelet, turning it slightly; Bruce noticed for the first time that the outline of a plunging bird was etched onto the bracelet. "That's what they are; they're robin's eyes." He turned the bracelet over, and Bruce saw an inscription on the underside: 'Fly into battle/defender of the night/then soar gently homeward/on wings of love's light.'

"Always watching over me," Dick whispered as a tear slipped down his cheek. Bruce still felt a little awkward being around an emotional person, but Dick wasn't just another person; he was family, and Bruce always took care of his family (even if he acted like he didn't care at times). He didn't think twice as he gently pulled Dick to him and held him as the teen cried softly.

(End of Chapter 8) 


	9. Chapter 9

- - - -

Linda stretched and slowly opened her eyes. There was nothing but darkness, and Linda remembered she was blind. She sat up and started panicking as her breathing increased and she held her hands out, trying to feel something; she felt an arm beside her and gently grabbed it. She carefully felt up until she came to a shoulder, and she could tell who was beside her.

"Jimmy?" she asked softly, trying not to cry. "Jimmy?" She shook the shoulder as gently as she could. "Jimmy?"

Jimmy heard his name being called and someone shaking his shoulder, and slowly opened his eyes; he blinked in the bright sunlight. He suddenly remembered where he was and looked over. He saw Linda sitting beside him on the bed, looking scared, breathing hard, tears in her eyes. He quickly scrambled into a sitting position.

"Linda, you okay?" he asked.

"I can't see," she said softly. "I still can't see."

"It's okay, Linda," he said, putting his arms around her, holding her safely. "I'm right here; it's okay."

Linda closed her eyes, still scared but glad that Jimmy was there; she felt so safe around him . . . and her family, but she knew they wouldn't want to be around her after what she did. She jerked away from Jimmy, hugging herself. Jimmy wasn't deterred; he simply scooted over and wrapped his arms around her, locking his fingers together. 

Linda didn't think she deserved it, but she was too tired to deal with his stubbornness. "What time is it?" she asked softly.

Jimmy glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "It's a little after ten." He knew he was going to be in trouble for skipping school, but at the moment he didn't care. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Linda replied. "Sore . . . and I have a huge headache."

Jimmy took a deep breath and moved his hands to her shoulders; he wasn't sure if he could actually help her feel better, but he began rubbing her shoulders gently, kneading her muscles. He was a little surprised that she started relaxing under his touch, but he didn't stop. He worked his way up her neck, then he rubbed her temples in small circles. He kept it up for a few minutes, then he stopped when he realized she was actually leaning back, resting against him, eyes closed.

"Linda?" he asked softly, in case she was asleep.

"Mmm?" Linda asked, not opening her eyes.

"You okay?"

"Mmm hmmm," Linda replied. She shifted and turned around, facing him. She brought her hands up slowly to his face, feeling his cheeks; when she found them she smiled ever so slightly. "Thank you."

Jimmy smiled only because she smiled back. "Hey, no sweat." He held his breath as Linda leaned over and softly kissed his cheek. "Uh . . . what was that?"

"An apology," Linda replied, her voice a mere whisper. "But I'll understand if you don't want to accept it."

"Linda, we talked about that last night," Jimmy said. "We dealt with it, we need to move on."

"Where?" Linda asked. "I feel so lost right now."

Jimmy cupped her face in his hands, wishing she could see him. "Then let us help you find your way back. Can you do that?"

Linda shook her head, tears filling her eyes. "I don't know," she said.

As she started crying Jimmy pulled her to him, hugging her gently, rubbing her back in small circles the way he remembered his father doing for him when he was little and scared. He quickly pushed that image out of his head before he felt bitter resentment, knowing that was the last thing he needed to be feeling at the moment.

It was almost thirty minutes before Linda stopped crying. Jimmy pulled back and gently dabbed her tears away with his thumbs. "Feel any better?" he asked. Linda nodded. "I'm glad." He glanced at the door. "You up for getting some food? You must be hungry, and I'm sure your parents want to know how you are."

"I can't face them, Jimmy," Linda replied. "I hurt them."

"Linda, it wasn't you," Jimmy said. "Your parents don't blame you for what you did any more than I blame you for what happened between us." He kissed her cheek. "Come on, let's go get something to eat."

Linda gently grabbed his wrist. "Jimmy, I need you to tell me something first, and I want you to be honest with me. How badly did they get hurt?"

Jimmy sighed, not wanting to go into that but not wanting to lie to her. "Well, they got a lot of cuts and bruises," he replied. "And your father's arm is in a sling, and he's limping a little, but I don't think anything's broken." Linda closed her eyes as a tear fell down her cheek. Jimmy took a deep breath. "Linda, you can't beat yourself up over this."

"I can't help it," Linda replied. "It was like I knew what I was doing . . . and I couldn't stop myself."

Jimmy took her chin gently, making her feel focused on him. "That's the point," he said, his voice low, calm, and firm. "You couldn't stop it, so you can't bear the responsibility for choices you didn't willingly make." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "You're not a bad person, Kara Linda Kent, and I will make you understand that, even if it means I have to stay here and keep telling you that every minute of every waking moment from now until the end of the world." He got off the bed and gently pulled Linda to her feet. "Now, you can try to fight me on this, but you're going downstairs for two reasons: first of all, you're going to talk to your parents. Second, you're going to eat. If you don't feel like doing either one, then I will put you over my shoulder and take you down there myself and sit on you; I don't care what anyone says."

Linda was stunned by the conviction in Jimmy's voice; she had no doubt he would follow through with what he threatened . . . and as much as she loved being held by him, she didn't like the image of her being hoisted over his shoulder in that manner. "'kay," she said softly.

Jimmy smiled. "Good answer," he said. "Come on." He held her hands and carefully led her out of the bedroom, down the hall, and down the stairs to the kitchen, reassuring her with every step that she was doing great and he wouldn't let her fall. They made it safely down the steps, and Jimmy looked at the table, expecting to see just Martha and Jonathan sitting there. He stopped short, his demeanor faltering, his eyes widening slightly.

Linda was confused, but then she stopped when she heard the two distinct heartbeats mingled in with the three she expected to hear; she also sensed two essences. The first was cool and confident, but there was worry – worry for her – mixed in as well. The second was also laced with concern, but a myriad of new-found strength and self worth were mingled in with determination and a familiar hesitancy.

"Bruce?" she asked softly. "Dick? Is . . . is that you?" She didn't wait for a confirmation as she hid behind Jimmy, not wanting to face Bruce after what she did to him.

"How you feeling, Linda?" Bruce asked, his voice sincere.

"I've had better days," Linda replied softly from behind Jimmy. She heard Bruce shift and felt the wince as his pain medications started wearing off. "How bad did I hurt you?"

"Does it matter?" Bruce asked.

"Yes, it does," Linda answered.

Bruce sighed. "Three broken ribs, a small burn wound on my shoulder, and some bumps and bruises."

Linda tried to shrink away, but Jimmy held her wrist firmly. Linda sighed. "I'm sorry, Bruce."

"Contrary to what you might think, Linda," Bruce said, "you're not the worst opponent I've faced since becoming Batman." He paused. "And I'm not mad at you."

"Even though I tried to kill you?" Linda asked.

"You wouldn't have killed," Jonathan spoke up.

"How do you know?" Linda asked softly.

"Because I didn't raise you to kill," Jonathan replied, his voice firm.

Linda's eyes welled up with tears. "But Zor-El did."

"Was he the one who taught you those moves?" Bruce asked. Linda turned her head in the direction of Bruce's voice, confused. "Those were skilled moves, and they required training, not something the average person can pick up."

"Fear and brutality weren't the only things he taught me," Linda said. "He taught me how to fight – how to kill." She turned to where she believed Jimmy was standing. "I don't want to be here anymore; please take me back to my room."

"No dice," Jimmy said. "Remember what we talked about?" He tried to pull Linda toward the table, but she planted her feet; Jimmy couldn't budge her if he tried. He narrowed his eyes. "Kara," he warned, his voice low and quiet.

"What?" Linda asked, stubbornly, folding her arms. Before she could react Jimmy reached down and grabbed here around her knees, hoisting her off the ground as she shrieked, and putting her over his shoulder in a fireman's hold. He carried her over to the table, plopped her gently in an empty chair, and sat in her lap.

"Jimmy, get off of me," Linda said, frowning, wishing she could see, trying to shove him off her lap, but he wasn't budging.

Bruce was tempted to say something snarky, but he decided against it; he simply watched, amused, thinking to himself how surprisingly effective Jimmy was . . . for a scrawny photographer. Dick watched, wide-eyed, part of him feeling bad for Linda, and the other part of him knowing she kinda needed it. And the Kents . . . well, despite their shock at seeing Jimmy deal with Linda in an unconventional manner, they were secretly cheering him on.

"Okay," Martha said slowly, doing her best not to smile at how Jimmy was handling the situation, "Linda, Jimmy, are you two hungry?"

"Yes, we're both hungry," Jimmy said. He shot a look at Linda. "Isn't that right, Linda?" Linda frowned, but she remained silent. "Linda will have a nice big plate of whatever you have, Mrs. Kent."

"And the same for you," Jonathan added. He smiled tightly. "After you get off my daughter."

"But I told her if she didn't sit down here and eat, I'd sit on her," Jimmy said.

"Well, she's here, and she's sitting," Jonathan said. "She won't be moving." He nodded slightly at Jimmy, and the boy reluctantly got off Linda's lap; he took the chair next to her, watching her like a hawk. Linda folded her arms and sighed loudly.

"Oh, Linda, hush," Jimmy said. "I told you I'd do it if you didn't sit down and eat." He glanced up as Martha sat two plates of leftover breakfast in front of the teens. "Now, please eat something."

"Will you stop blaming yourself?" Linda asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"Jimmy, I may have lost my eyesight, but I still have my other senses," Linda replied. Jimmy stared in silence. "You're blaming yourself for what happened to me."

Jimmy tried to frown, but he couldn't. He sighed and lowered his head, his expression faltering. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Linda asked. "Jimmy, you didn't know it was red kryptonite. Even I didn't know; how can you expect to know something about me if I don't?" Jimmy didn't say anything, and Linda sighed, frowning a little. "Fine, you wanna be like that, then I won't eat."

"Linda," Jonathan said.

"I'm not going to eat if Jimmy won't realize it wasn't his fault," Linda replied, folding her arms stubbornly.

Jonathan sighed. "Look, Jimmy, we talked about this last night," he said. "You're not to blame for this, and I already told you we're not going to let you blame yourself." He turned to Linda. "Linda, honey, we're not mad about what happened, and no matter what Zor-El taught you, you weren't meant to be that."

"How can you be so sure?" Linda asked.

"Because if you were," Martha answered, "then you would have succumbed long before you came here." She walked over and hugged her daughter from behind with one arm; she hugged Jimmy with her other arm. Linda blinked back tears as her father reached over and held her hand within his, and it took all her strength not to cry.

"I just wish I didn't have those feelings in me," Linda said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"We know that," Jonathan replied softly.

Linda looked up in Bruce's direction. "And I really don't want to kill you, Bruce; I didn't mean that either."

"I know, Linda," Bruce said quietly. The room fell uncharacteristically quiet.

"So, now what?" Linda whispered after a few minutes.

"Well," Jonathan replied, "after you both eat your breakfast maybe we should sit down and talk about those feelings."

"I think that would be a good idea," Martha said.

"Why don't you go ahead and do that now?" Bruce said as he slowly got to his feet. "Dick and I need to get back to Gotham."

Linda raised an eyebrow. "Alfred doesn't know you're here, does he?" she asked. Everyone looked at her, surprised; she felt it. "I guess since I can't see, my other senses are kinda firing like synapses."

"It was his idea," Dick replied quickly, pointing at Bruce.

"Bruce," Jonathan frowned at the Gothamite. "You said Alfred was okay with you being here."

"Actually, I said he knew I was here," Bruce replied. "I did leave him a note."

Jonathan sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Bruce, you're not my kid, but you want to know how much I want to put you over my knee and teach you what's what – regardless of your other injuries?"

"And me without my camera," Jimmy muttered. Bruce glared at him. "Hey, you started it, Bruce." The photographer glanced over at Dick and saw how wide his eyes had become. "Dude, you okay?" Dick just sat there, watching Bruce with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth.

"Bruce," Jonathan said through clenched teeth, "if you don't take Dick home then instant and get some rest, then I will be calling Alfred – and I'll be sure to tell him everything."

"Okay, we're going, we're going," Bruce said quickly. "Come on, Dick." Dick got to his feet, and the two headed for the kitchen door; Bruce stopped and turned around. "Oh, Linda, there's something for you on the coffee table in the living room. It's for Clark too, but I think you might understand what its meaning is more than him."

"What is it?" Linda asked.

Bruce, in spite of everything, smiled furtively, though Linda couldn't see. "It's something you've been interested in for quite some time. Bye." He and Dick headed out the kitchen door.

"Okay, do you know what he's talking about?" Linda asked her parents.

"Not really," Jonathan said. "He just brought a large heavy box with him and put it on the coffee table."

"What about Clark?" Jimmy asked.

"Clark is at the Planet," Martha answered. "He called earlier saying he wanted to do some research on which jewelry store you bought the necklace from."

"I could tell him," Jimmy said, "but that means telling him I know what's going on . . . and I'm not really sure I'm ready for that yet." Jonathan and Martha glanced at each other.

"Jimmy, I know you want to deal with Clark on your own terms," Martha said gently, "but don't you think it's time to start considering letting him know the truth?"

"Are you going to tell him if I don't?" Jimmy asked.

"Not unless we have to," Jonathan replied. "We understand the importance of secrets, Jimmy, but if we're put into a situation where we have to lie to Clark to keep him from knowing that you know, we won't do it. Do you understand?"

Jimmy sighed and slowly nodded. "Yeah, I do." He was silent for a bit, then he took a deep breath. "Look, I'll tell him soon. Just let me figure out how to do it. Please?" Jonathan and Martha nodded, and Jimmy let out a sigh of relief.

"Now, why don't you two eat your breakfast, and we'll get started on that talk," Jonathan said. The teens nodded, and began eating slowly; Jonathan and Martha helped Linda with her eating and carefully watched Jimmy to make sure he ate as well. It took them a while to finish, but when they were done they went into the living room to talk. Linda wanted to open the package Bruce left, but she decided to wait until Clark was there. Putting it aside, everyone settled in for what they knew was probably going to be a very long talk.

- - - -

Clark was busy sitting at his desk, staring at his computer monitor as he tried to research jewelry stores in Metropolis, looking for any clue that could lead him to the one Jimmy bought the red kryptonite necklace from, but he wasn't having much luck. He debated whether or not to call Jimmy and just ask him, but he sighed, knowing Jimmy would ask questions, and Clark didn't want any more questions; he was sick of questions. Frustrated, he crossed his arms and leaned back.

"What's up with you?" Chloe asked as she and Lois approached.

"How was the press conference?" Clark asked, turning his head, and Chloe and Lois saw his black eye. They didn't know it was actually starting to fade; it still looked pretty nasty.

"Whoa," Lois said, "what happened to you, Clark?"

"I, uh, had a little accident," Clark replied, turning his head.

Chloe furrowed her eyebrows, tilting her head slightly. "Hey, Lo, why don't you go tell Perry we're back?" Lois left the two, and Chloe pulled up a chair next to Clark, sitting down. "Okay, Clark, what happened?"

"Linda slugged me," Clark answered.

"Why?" Chloe asked. She smirked. "She finally get sick of 'Short Stack?'"

"Because she was on red kryptonite," Clark replied.

"What?" Chloe asked, her eyes going wide. "How? All the school rings were destroyed."

"Jimmy's birthday present," Clark replied. "The 'garnets' were really red kryptonite rocks."

"Where did he get it from?" Chloe asked.

"Don't know," Clark replied. "That's what I'm looking for right now."

"So, she fought you?" Chloe asked.

"And Bruce," Clark answered. "And that was after she dressed in something . . . well, very provocative, robbed the Smallville bank, tossed Pete and our parents around like rag dolls, robbed the stores here in the city, drank at the -"

"Whoa, hold the phone," Chloe interrupted, "that was Linda?" Clark nodded. "Are Pete and your parents okay?"

"Everyone's fine. Linda also drank a lot of alcohol at the Atlantis, and told her friends that she is an alien." Chloe's eyes grew again. "Don't worry; they don't believe her – at least Dad thinks so; we'll check it out later. And the items were returned, as you know." Chloe and Lois had gone to a press conference to do a follow-up story about the mysterious attacks from the day before – and how all the stolen goods had been returned by an anonymous source. The S.C.U. were still baffled, but they decided to close the case until they got any further clues or leads. "I returned the money to Pete. Linda spent some, so I have a feeling we'll be hearing about the FBI doing some investigating in the next few days when the bills starts showing up."

"Does anyone suspect Linda?" Chloe asked.

"No, thank goodness," Clark answered. "No one's been able to positively identify her . . . but Lex suspects something."

"Like what?" Chloe asked.

"Two of his men fought with Linda," Clark said. "And me."

"You think he knows who she is?" Chloe asked.

Clark shook his head. "I don't think so; he made threats, but he's always making threats."

"Are you going to tell your parents?" Chloe asked.

"Yeah, I'll talk to them later." He paused.

"What is it, Clark?"

Clark sighed. "When Bruce and I had to subdue her, he had to use Lex's kryptonite ring; Linda used her heat vision – and it hit the kryptonite."

Chloe put a hand on her mouth. She knew how Clark had been blind when they were in high school. "Is . . . is she . . . ?" Clark nodded. "Oh, Clark, I'm so sorry. Is she okay?"

"She is . . . very broken right now," Clark replied. "We're not worried about her blindness as much as we are about her emotional state. She's blaming herself for this, of course." He sighed. "It's just going to take some time."

"Well, if anyone can get her through this, it's you and your parents," Chloe replied, putting a hand on Clark's shoulder. Clark smiled a little. "I take it Jimmy doesn't know about this?"

"Jimmy would blame himself," Clark replied. "Even though my parents wouldn't – and neither would Linda."

"But you do?" Chloe asked.

Clark stopped, startled. "No," he said quickly. "I mean . . . I know it wasn't his fault, but why did he have to get her that necklace?"

"Because he likes her, Clark."

"Then why not something with purple jewels?" Clark asked. "That's her favorite color." He wasn't mad . . . he just felt so helpless, and that frustrated him.

"Because the garnet is her birthstone," Chloe answered. "Just like the ruby is your birthstone." She sighed and looked at the monitor. "So, any luck with finding the store?"

"None," Clark replied. "I don't even know where to start."

"Why not ask Jimmy?"

"And tell him what?" Clark asked. "That Linda was affected by the kryptonite rocks in the necklace he bought her – and she went ballistic? Besides, he'll ask questions."

"Look, Clark, maybe it's time that Jimmy knows the truth."

"Why?" Clark asked. "So, I can put another friend in danger?"

"Clark, we were in danger long before we knew your secret," Chloe replied. "Lois is more of a target, because everyone thinks she and Superman are . . . close, and even she doesn't know the truth. You can't use that argument anymore." She smirked. "Besides, Jimmy gets into enough trouble on his own, anyway."

"Don't remind me," Clark said.

"So, what's the real reason?" Chloe asked.

"I just . . . I don't know if he's ready to know."

"Clark, none of us were ready enough when you told us; you can't prepare for that kind of secret."

"Look, Chloe, as much as I like waxing philosophical with you," Clark replied, "I'd like to get back to working on finding out where Jimmy got the necklace." He went back to his computer.

Chloe watched for a few moments, then she walked over to her desk and picked up the phone. She dialed Jimmy's cell number and let it ring.

"Hello?" Jimmy asked quietly.

"Hey, Jimmy," Chloe said. She furrowed her eyebrows. "You okay? You sound tired."

"Just out of it," Jimmy replied. "What's up?"

"Do you remember where you got Linda's necklace?" Chloe asked.

There was a pause. "Why?" Jimmy asked.

"Well, I've been thinking about getting some earrings," Chloe replied. "And I like the design on Linda's necklace."

"Look, Chloe, I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because they're expensive."

"Well, I can still look. Come on, Jimmy, please?"

Jimmy sighed. "Fine. I got it from Gandolfo's Gems and Jewels on Sullivan and Shuster."

"Thanks, Jimmy," Chloe replied. "Hope you feel better." Jimmy didn't answer as he hung up. Chloe stared at the phone for a moment before hanging up. She headed back over to Clark to give him the news.

(End of Chapter 9) 


	10. Chapter 10

- - - -

"So, go ahead and say it," Linda said quietly as she sat on the couch. Jimmy and Martha sat beside her, and Jonathan sat on the coffee table.

"Say what?" Jonathan asked.

"That I'm a horrible person for what I did," Linda replied.

Jonathan sighed. "Linda, you're not a horrible person."

"But I had those feelings," Linda said. "And because of the red kryptonite, I put a man in Belle Reeve and ruined his life. Granted, I don't like him, but it doesn't matter."

"It wasn't you, Linda," Martha replied.

"So?" Linda asked. "That doesn't help Mr. Hynes. He's there because I wanted him to suffer because of how rotten he was to his students – me included."

"Linda, every student has wanted to get revenge on their teacher for being rotten to them," Jimmy replied. "You're not the first, and you're not the last."

"No, I just happen to be the first student who put her teacher into an institution," Linda replied.

"No, I think Calvin did that first with Ms. Wormwood," Jimmy replied.

"Huh?" Linda asked.

"Jimmy," Martha chided gently.

"Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood," Jimmy replied. "So, uh, how . . . uh, how are we going to fix this one?"

"'We' are not going to be fixing anything," Jonathan said. "This is something us adults will be taking care of." The phone rang suddenly, and Martha went to answer it.

"Hello?" she said. She smiled. "Hi, Clark." She listened as her smile slowly faded. "What?" She put a hand over her mouth as she turned around. Jonathan hurried over and listened in.

"What's going on?" Linda whispered.

"Not sure," Jimmy asked.

Linda tilted her head and focused her hearing, listening in. Jimmy glanced over and saw what she was doing, and he covered her ears. Linda lost her focus. "Jimmy, what are you doing? I was trying to listen in."

"And if they wanted us to know, they'll tell us," Jimmy replied.

"This coming from a guy whose job is it to be nosey," Linda muttered. She sighed and folded her arms, leaning back. 

Jimmy couldn't help but smile as he took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Come on, Linda, you know how much trouble you'd get into if you listened in and they found out. I don't want you to get in trouble."

Linda shook her head. She knew Jimmy would not normally discourage her from eavesdropping; he was just trying to cheer her up . . . and it was working. She smiled a little. "Liar." She opened her mouth to say something, but she could hear footsteps as her parents came back over. "So, what's up with Clark?" There was a pause, and Linda knew something was wrong. "What happened?"

Jonathan took a deep breath. "Linda, why didn't you tell us that the men who attacked you and Clark in the alley worked for Lex?"

"Is that why Clark was calling?" Linda asked.

"He was calling to let us know that Lex suspects Superman is hiding a girl with superpowers," Jonathan replied, trying hard to keep calm. He was angry – furious – that Lex had learned about Linda, but he couldn't be mad at Linda.

Linda was stunned. "I didn't . . . I'm sorry," she replied softly, shrinking in on herself.

"Now, wait," Jonathan said as he came over and sat beside his daughter. "Linda, we're not mad at you."

"But Lex knows about me," Linda replied. "I put us all in danger."

"No, it was me," Jimmy said softly. "If I hadn't gotten that stupid necklace, then none of this would have happened."

"No," Martha said firmly. "Now, I'm going to say this, and I want both of you to listen to me. We are not mad at either of you. Clark said that Lex doesn't know who the girl is, and he said he wouldn't try to hurt her if she didn't get in his way."

"Do we believe Lex?" Jimmy asked.

"Yes," Jonathan answered. "He's many things, but he has no reason to go after this girl – unless she gets in his way."

"What does that mean?" Linda asked.

Jonathan sighed. "It means we're going to go on with our lives – and you are not going to be going to Metropolis for a while." He could see both Jimmy and Linda looked very upset. "I'm sorry, you two, but people who saw Linda need to have time to forget her. And Linda doesn't need to be there and risk using her powers where someone could see her."

"What about the guys Clark and I fought?" Linda asked.

Jonathan took in a deep breath. "Clark told us they are both dead. One died in the hospital last night, and one was in an auto accident near his apartment."

"Lex," Jimmy replied, frowning a little. "He wants to be the only one who knows this information."

"Exactly," Jonathan said, feeling a little proud. "So, I know you guys won't like this, but that's the way it has to be." He looked over and saw Linda tilting her head, her eyebrows furrowed. "Linda?"

"Shh," Linda said. "I hear something." Everyone watched her as she raised an eyebrow. "Uh, we have company."

"Who is it?" Jonathan asked, tensing, letting the fact that his daughter told him to be quiet slide – for the moment.

Linda listened carefully – and heard a familiar humming. "It's Buzz's van." Everyone visibly relaxed.

"Okay, why don't you two go upstairs for now?" Jonathan suggested. "And take Bruce's gift with you."

"Why?" Linda asked.

"Because your friends may ask some questions we can't answer," Martha replied.

"Come on, Linda," Jimmy said, getting to his feet and grabbing Bruce's box in one hand and Linda's hand in the other. He carefully led Linda out of the living room and up the stairs.

"And we gotta know if they believe Linda's really an alien," Jonathan muttered.

"I heard that!" Linda shouted.

"Bionic hearing off!" Jonathan retorted.

"So, what do we do if they believe what Linda said?" Martha asked.

"We'll deal with it," Jonathan replied. They waited in the living room until they heard knocking on the front door. Martha waited as Jonathan got up and went to answer it.

- - - -

Linda sat on her bed, fighting the urge not to listen in on her parents. She gently tapped her foot, leaning back, bracing herself on her hands. Jimmy sat at her desk, Bruce's box on top, and he watched Linda fidget. He tried to think of something to distract her, but he couldn't think of –

"Wait, that's it," Jimmy said, the idea clicking in his head.

"What?" Linda asked.

Jimmy grabbed the heavy box and brought it over to the bed, sitting next to Linda. "Bruce said this was for you – and Clark, but more for you." He carefully opened the box and stopped short, sucking in his breath.

"What is it?" Linda asked.

Jimmy stared at the contents of the box, tilting his head in confusion. "I have no idea."

Linda sighed, wishing she had her vision back. "Can you describe it?"

"It's . . . uh . . . ," Jimmy said slowly.

"Jimmy, put my hands on your head," Linda replied.

"Why?" Jimmy asked.

"I want to see what you're seeing," Linda answered.

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea," Jimmy said.

"It won't hurt," Linda replied. "Besides, if you let me do this for you, I'll owe you; anything you want – within reason."

Jimmy hesitated, then he nodded. "Sure," he replied. He balanced the box on his lap and gently took Linda's hands and put them on the sides of his head. "Okay."

Linda closed her eyes and concentrated. For a while, there was nothing but darkness, but then a fuzzy colorful image appeared; it took only a few moments for it to come into focus, and Linda finally understood why Jimmy was so weirded out.

Inside the box was a granite stone tablet, measuring exactly one foot by one and half foot and one inch thick. Carved into the stone in the exact center was a tan colored pyramid. Overlaying the pyramid, near the top was the Kryptonian symbol of the El family, the border and inner eight symbol painted red, and the rest of symbol was filled in with bright yellow, eerily reminding Linda of Clark's s-shield. The peak of the pyramid was separated from the rest of the body; a single eye was etched into the peak, and it stared back, almost as if it was watching everything around it. Around the pyramid were two sets of Kryptonian symbols.

"Whoa," Linda whispered.

"So, what is it?"

"It's . . . Latin," Linda replied slowly.

"Latin?" Jimmy asked. "Looks like Kryptonian to me."

"It is Kryptonian," Linda said, "but it's also Latin . . . just like the other one."

"Other one?" Jimmy asked.

"The Chinese rice paper," Linda replied. "I was looking at it a last week, and I found something hidden in the paper – three invisible words written in Kryptonian."

"What did they say?" Jimmy asked.

"'Sidera tollere vultus,'" Linda replied.

"And what do these words say?" Jimmy asked.

"'Erectos, ad,'" Linda answered.

"So, we need to find some way who can translate Latin," Jimmy replied.

"'And having been encouraged to raise a face to the stars,'" Linda said. She felt Jimmy stare at her, surprised; she smiled. "I learned Latin after Christmas . . . and Chinese."

"In the span of two weeks?" Jimmy asked. He paused. "Wait, this is you we're talking about."

"Gee, thanks," Linda replied wryly.

"So, you really learned two languages in two weeks?" Jimmy asked.

Linda nodded. "I was curious."

Jimmy chuckled. "Cool. So, what does that mean?"

"Well," Linda said. "I can see a pyramid with the El family symbol . . . which is also the Kryptonian symbol for air."

"So, that makes two," Jimmy said. "Fire, and now Air."

"Or it's Crusade and El," Linda replied. "I was noticing the top – the separated peak with the eye in it."

"The all-seeing eye," Jimmy said.

"All seeing . . .," Linda replied slowly. "Like telepathy . . . ." She sighed, rubbing her head. "I don't know what to make of this, Jimmy."

"Linda, no one expects you to have all the answers," Jimmy replied.

"But I should," Linda said, frustrated. "This is something I'm supposed to know about. I mean, this is an amazing discovery: Kryptonians have been on earth before. Clark told me that Jor-El came to Earth in 1961 . . . but according to this tablet and the Chinese rice paper . . . Kryptonians have been here before that time."

"Well, you said the Kawatche talked about Naman visiting over five hundred years ago," Jimmy said.

"But this stuff goes back further than that," Linda replied. "Look at the dates you gave me for the Chinese pyramid information."

"So, this goes back to the pyramids," Jimmy said. "That's the only thing these places have in common." His eyes widened. "Uh, does that mean that Kryptonians really . . . built the pyramids?"

"I don't know," Linda replied. "This doesn't make sense . . . nothing makes sense. Why would the Kryptonian people come here in the first place?"

"Well, maybe they wanted to conquer," Jimmy replied. "Jor-El sent Clark here for that purpose. Maybe the pyramids were going to be used as weapons of mass destruction, and the humans stopped them."

Linda shrugged. "Who knows?" she asked. There was a knock on the door. "Who is it?"

"It's us, Linda," Jonathan said from the other side.

"Come in," Linda replied. She heard the door open and two sets of footsteps enter. "So, who was at the door?"

"Your friends," Martha said. "All of them."

"What did they want?" Linda asked softly.

"They wanted to know what was going on," Jonathan replied. "We told them you were sick, and now you were recovering, but we told them you weren't up for visitors just yet."

"Which is technically the truth," Linda replied. "Do they hate me?"

"No, they're very worried about you," Martha replied. "Linda, they told us everything that they saw happen with you yesterday, and they wanted us to let you know they're not mad at you, because you were sick."

Linda snorted. "I guess they don't believe I'm an alien either, do they?"

"No," Jonathan replied. "They think it was just your mind being jumbled up while you were sick – which is the truth." He saw the tablet. "What's that?"

"It's an Egyptian tablet," Jimmy answered. "Linda thinks the symbol on the pyramid is either 'Crusade' or 'El,'. She also found out that the symbols around the pyramid are part of a Latin sentence."

"It's part of the Latin sentence that was under the Yin Yang symbol on the rice paper," Linda replied. "Remember?"

"So, what does it mean?" Martha asked.

"Well, it could mean that Kryptonians built the pyramids," Jimmy replied. He saw the Kents looking at him. "I'm serious. The only things Egypt and China have in common are pyramids and the fact that Kryptonians visited them."

"So, all the crazy people who believed that the pyramids were built by aliens . . . were right?" Jonathan asked slowly.

"Maybe, maybe not," Linda replied. "There's still at least one piece missing; until we have the whole puzzle, there's no telling what's really going on."

"Well, why don't you put that away for now?" Jonathan suggested. "We need to talk." Linda nodded, and Jimmy put the tablet and box aside.

"Do I need to leave?" Jimmy asked.

"No, you can stay, Jimmy," Jonathan replied. He sighed and looked at his daughter. "Linda, your friends told us that it looks like Mr. Hynes is going to be released in a couple of days, and then he'll be on paid leave for the rest of the year; his doctor thinks he just needs a very long vacation."

"Thank goodness," Linda whispered.

"Yes," Jonathan replied. "We were very lucky, Linda, with everything that happened." He paused then took a deep breath. "And we know you were drugged, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be held accountable for some of your actions."

"But she had no control over herself," Jimmy protested. "You're going to punish her for that?"

"We're not going to punish Linda," Jonathan replied. "She's already punished herself enough, and we don't feel it's necessary to add to that. However, we feel that the best thing right now is to have Linda not use her powers for a while."

"How long?" Linda asked.

"Just until things cool off," Martha replied. "A few weeks or so."

"And you still need to repay the three thousand dollars you spent in Metropolis," Jonathan continued.

"I guess that means no allowance for" Linda did a quick calculation "one hundred and fifty weeks, huh?"

"We thought about that," Jonathan replied. "But we didn't think that was fair. We decided – and we'll talk to Bruce to see if he okays this – that you should work off your debt with him; he won't ask questions." He walked over and sat beside Linda. "Sweetie, you okay?"

"Yeah," Linda whispered. Her eyes started itching slightly, so she gently rubbed them. When they stopped itching she opened them – and then she gasped softly, staring straight ahead.

"What is it, honey?" Martha asked.

"I can see," Linda replied, stunned.

"Really?" Jonathan asked.

"Not very well," Linda replied. "Everything's really blurry, but I can tell it's bright in here."

Jonathan pursed his lips a little. "Sweetie, can I try something? I want you to tell me if it's dark or light." 

Linda nodded, and Jonathan put a hand in front of her face. "It's dark." Jonathan removed his hand. "Now it's light again."

Jonathan smiled. "Well, it seems that your sight is coming back alright . . . a little quicker than Clark's did, but I don't think anyone's going to complain."

"How did Clark's come back?" Linda asked.

"His came back when flames were burned into his eyes," Martha replied.

"So, I heal differently than Clark?" Linda asked.

Martha tilted her head. "Well, Linda, you have been crying a lot lately, and moisture is essential to healing wounds."

"So, you want me to keep crying?" Linda asked wryly.

"No," Jonathan replied, smiling, "but we can give you some eye drops to help keep your eyes moist."

"Okay," Linda said.

"Well," Jimmy spoke up, "I hate to do this, but I need to get back to Metropolis before Mom shows up, figure out how I'm going to explain to her that I skipped school – again."

"We'll call your school and talk with them," Jonathan replied.

Jimmy shrugged. "You don't have to do that, Mr. Kent," he said.

"No, we don't," Jonathan replied. "We want to; you're family, remember?" He got up and walked over to Jimmy, hugging him. "Now, get going before it gets too late." He ruffled Jimmy's hair a bit. "You're cycle's in the barn; I hid it this morning to make sure you wouldn't run off again." Martha cleared her throat. "And to keep it from prying eyes." Jimmy smiled and said goodbye to Martha and Linda, and promised to call when he got home, then he left the room.

"Now what?" Linda asked.

"Well, why don't you just take it easy okay?" Martha asked. "I'll get some started lunch later."

Linda nodded. "Can I listen to my Ipod?" she asked. "Chloe and Lois put over three hours of music on it, and I haven't had a chance to listen to it yet."

"Sure," Jonathan replied. He grabbed Linda's Ipod from her nighstand and carefully put the headphones over her ears, handing the Ipod to his daughter. He watched as she carefully fumbled around, pressing the buttons and adjusting the volume; after a few moments she started bobbing her head softly as she lay her head on her pillow. Jonathan and Martha smiled and left Linda alone, heading out of the room as Streaky and Krypto wandered in. The two pets jumped up on her bed and snuggled with their mistress as she hummed in tune with the song she was listening to.

(End of Chapter 10) 


	11. Chapter 11

- 

Night fell over Metropolis as the city's nocturnal creatures came out to explore. People bustled to nightclubs and restaurants or went home to their families. The homeless settled into their makeshift shelters for the night, whether they were in cardboard boxes near the Queensland, Clinton, or Mortimer Bridges, or in cars parked along curbs in Suicide Slum. Everyone was so lost in their own worlds that they didn't notice the dark figure swinging among the buildings from a thin wire. The figure landed silently on the roof of Gandolfo's Gems and Jewels. He looked around and headed for the skylight when he heard a small whooshing sound. He didn't even look up as Superman landed beside him.

"How are the ribs?" Superman asked.

"Still hurt like hell," Batman replied, "but I'll live. You're late."

"I was on the phone with Mom and Dad," Superman replied. "Linda's slowly getting her eyesight back."

"Mmm," Batman said.

"So, how do you want to play this?" Superman asked.

"Well, first, get rid of the nosy reporter," Bruce answered, looking at the shadows, glaring slightly.

"Hey, I have a name, Bruce," Chloe said as she stepped out into the light.

Superman's eyes went wide. "Chloe, what are you doing here?"

"Doing what you're doing," Chloe replied. "Finding out what's going on." She walked over. "So, what's the plan?"

"You leave, and Clark and I investigate on our own," Batman answered. "Don't like it? Tough."

"Bruce, I'm staying, one way or another," Chloe said as she walked over. "If there's kryptonite – of any kind - around here I'm not letting Clark get anywhere near it. Don't like it? Tough."

"Chloe, that's why Bruce is here," Superman replied.

"Clark, I'm not leaving," Chloe said. "We've already had one kryptonite incident; we don't need another one.

Bruce glared at Chloe, tempted to string her up until they were done, but he didn't. "Stay out of the way," he said before he headed for the skylight.

"Just behave," Superman replied to Chloe. Chloe simply smiled as they headed over to the skylight. "Okay, Bruce, so what -"

"Shhh," Batman interrupted, holding up a hand. Superman and Chloe stopped and watched as Batman tilted his head slightly. Then he turned to the back of the building and headed for the edge. Superman and Chloe glanced at each other and made their way over to where Batman was; the two looked down over the edge.

The alley behind the jewelry store was dark, with sporadic lighting, reminding Superman of his last time in a Metropolis alley, and he shuddered inwardly, but he pushed it aside as he watched with his friends. Two cars were parked in the alley, the first one was a black Taurus, and the second was a white van. Two men were standing by them, talking. The first man was the own of the jewelry store, Gandolfo Paparazzi. The second man had his head down, shadows hiding his face.

As the two talked, Batman took out a pair of binoculars and focused in on the license plates of the two vehicles. Then he lightly touched an area above his ear, activating a combination microphone/earpiece. "Alfred, come in," he said, barely audible.

"Uh, Alfred's not here, Bruce," Dick said slowly.

"Dick, what are you doing up?" Batman asked. He had begun teaching his 'son' the ends and outs of the Batcave computer system, but he wasn't expecting Dick to be up at such a late hour. "It's late."

"It's Friday night," Dick protested.

"It's late," Batman asked. "Where's Alfred?"

"He went upstairs to do some laundry," Dick asked. "I was down here anyway, so he asked me to keep an ear out for you."

"What were you doing?" Batman asked.

"Exercises," Dick replied. "I couldn't sleep."

Batman raised an eyebrow. "Anything we need to talk about?"

"No," Dick replied. "Just had some energy to burn."

Batman paused, deciding whether or not to believe the young boy. After a moment, he made his decision. "I need information on some plate numbers."

Dick was glad there wasn't a video hookup; the last thing he wanted was to have Batman see him blush. He took a deep breath and composed himself before jumping into working mode. He brought up the complex system on the computer. "Ready." Batman read off the two plate numbers, and waited. After a few moments Dick had the results. "Okay, the first one is registered to a Gandalfo Paparazzi, resident in Metropolis, owner of Gandolfo's Gems and Jewels."

"And the second one?" Bruce asked.

"The second one belongs to a Farley Moldeplunk," Dick replied. "He's a Geology professor at Metropolis University, but he's been spending the past year out in Smallville . . . ." He trailed off, whistling.

"What?" Batman asked.

"He's been doing geological surveys," Dick answered. "On kryptonite."

"Well, that certainly explains a lot," Batman muttered. "Thanks, Dick. Now, go to bed."

"Yes, sir," Dick replied, yawning slightly.

"Oh, and Dick?"

"Yeah?"

"Linda's getting her eyesight back," Batman replied. "Thought you'd like to know that."

"Thanks, Bruce."

Bruce touched the area above his ear, cutting the communication line. He turned to Superman and Chloe. "Well, we got one mystery cleared up; the other guy is Farley Moldeplunk. He's -"

"Been doing geological surveys on kryptonite in Smallville for the past year," Clark interrupted. Batman stared at him. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't know about anyone doing research on kryptonite in my home town?"

"Well, I was the one who told you, remember?" Chloe asked.

"Regardless," Batman said, "we have a geologist who specializes in kryptonite meeting with a jeweler who owns a store where Jimmy bought a necklace that had red kryptonite in it."

"Not only that," Chloe added, "but they're exchanging money in a paper bag behind said store in the middle of the night." Batman looked at her. "Clark's super peepers."

Batman grunted. "We're going to get some answers," he said. He glared Chloe. "Stay here." He and Superman headed over the ledge, leaving Chloe alone on the roof as she folded her arms and muttered under her breath. She watched as the two heroes dropped in on the unsuspecting men, quickly subduing them. They started interrogating the two, their backs to the van, and they were unaware as the side van door silently opened and two guns poked out, their barrels glistening in the dim light.

Chloe had been jotting down notes in a notebook she grabbed from her bag, making sure to leave out any information about her friends, but she stopped when she saw the glistening metal; she knew she had to act fast. She quickly glanced around and saw a couple of unopened cans of Liquid Nails®. Acting quickly, she tossed the cans at the guns, hitting them. The force from the weight of the cans combined with the element of surprise knocked the guns out, and the two gunmen shouted out.

Batman and Superman whirled around and saw the two gunmen in the van. While Batman stayed with Paparazzi and Moldeplunk Superman took care of the gunmen, quickly subduing them and bringing them over. He glanced up at Chloe and smiled his thanks. Chloe grinned and went back to her note taking as her friends dealt with the criminals. About an hour later – after the police had come and taken care of the scene - Superman and Batman were back on the roof with Chloe.

"So, basically it was a repeat of what happened when we were in high school," Chloe replied. "Jeweler sells meteor rocks in place of precious stones, jacking up the price, and skimming the profits, splitting them with his accomplice."

"Sounds to me like Smallville and Metropolis villains are getting redundant," Batman replied, smirking. "At least with the lunatics in Gotham I know to expect the unexpected."

"Then it wouldn't be unexpected," Superman retorted, smirking back.

"So, what's going to happen to the people they cheated?" Chloe asked. "The jewelry in Gandolfo's is rather expensive. Jimmy must have spent a pretty penny on that necklace for Linda that turned out to have nothing more in it than worthless rocks."

"Almost a hundred and ten dollars," Bruce replied. "The jeweler was nice enough to inform us of all the people he cheated out of money, including the prices." He handed over a folded piece of paper. "Consider this my contribution to the story."

"Thanks, Bruce," Chloe replied, taking the paper.

"Are we done here?" Batman asked. "I need to get home." He would never admit how tired he was or how much his ribs still hurt. He also wanted to check on Dick and make sure he actually went to bed.

"We're done," Superman replied. "I need to get Chloe back to her place, then I'm going to head back to Smallville."

"How's Linda doing?" Chloe asked. "She still blaming herself?"

"She's okay," Superman said, "but I think she still blames herself for what happened." He sighed. "We haven't really had the chance to talk since I brought her home, and I think it might do her a world of good to know what happened to me when I was on red k."

"You better be sure she's ready for that, Clark," Chloe said. "She thinks highly of you in a way no one else does."

"That's why she needs to know that I'm not perfect," Superman replied. "She needs to see that even with all the bad things I did I was forgiven."

"But you haven't forgiven yourself," Batman spoke up. "You still think Jor-El's going to come after your father." Superman didn't say anything, but his expression betrayed his silence. "Clark, it's been years; if Jor-El wanted your father, he would have gotten him long ago."

"Then why did he make a deal with my father to bring me back?" Superman asked.

"Maybe he wanted to see if your father really wanted to take the time and effort to bring you back," Chloe replied.

"Then why did he put me through hell before?" Superman asked. "He branded me; he scared me into leaving; he shamed me into going against everything I've ever believed and been taught; and I let him." Chloe and Batman shared a glance, then Chloe stepped forward.

"Clark, it's been years," she said. "I know what happened is hard to forget, but we're not asking you to forget . . . just forgive. Everyone else has already . . . why can't you?"

"Because I can't," Superman replied softly.

"Clark, if you can't forgive yourself," Batman said, "then don't go to Linda pretending you have. You'll only be lying to her."

"Then what should I do?" Superman asked.

"Talk with your parents," Chloe replied. "Then forgive yourself . . . then talk with Linda."

"In that order," Batman added. Superman looked like he was going to protest, but he didn't; he simply nodded. "I need to get home." He would never admit that he was tired and his ribs were hurting – or that he wanted to make sure Dick had actually gone to bed. He nodded to the two before jumping off the roof and disappearing into the shadows.

Chloe glanced up at her friend. "You going to be okay, Clark?"

Superman shrugged. "I need to get you home; you have a story to write up." Chloe wanted to say something, but she didn't know what she could say that wouldn't sound like an after school special or a public service announcement. She decided not to say anything as Superman scooped her into his arms and took off into the sky, heading for her apartment.

-

Jonathan had just finished washing the glass he had finished drinking from and was heading for the stairs top check on Linda before heading off to join his wife in bed when there was a soft knock on the kitchen door. The farmer was a little wary; it was really late, and anyone who came calling that late at night didn't usually bring good tidings. He walked to the door and opened it, seeing his son standing on the porch. He held a small office packing box in his hands, and he looked a little forlorn.

"Clark, what's wrong?" Jonathan asked, concern written all over his face and laced in his voice.

"Can we talk?" Clark asked softly.

"Sure," Jonathan replied, stepping aside and herding his son in. He closed the door as Clark put the box on the island. "What is it, son?"

Clark walked over to the table and sat down, resting his elbows on the wood. "I want to talk to Linda," he replied. "About what I was like when I was on red kryptonite . . . all the times I was on it."

Jonathan tensed a little; he had been wondering how long it would be before Clark wanted to tell Linda about his experiences while he had been drugged. He knew it was something Linda needed to know . . . but he knew there was something else that needed to be taken care of first; he could see it in his son's expression – and he knew the real reason Clark was there. "Clark, why haven't you forgiven yourself?" he asked as he walked over and sat beside his son. "It's been over ten years."

"Because I don't deserve it," Clark whispered.

"And why would you think that?" Jonathan asked. "Clark, son, we never blamed for what happened or any of the things you did; I can't begin to count the number of times we've told you this." He put his hand on Clark's. "Why won't you allow yourself to believe that what we tell you is true?"

"I don't know . . .," Clark replied honestly. "I want to, Dad, I really do, but I . . . can't."

Jonathan sighed and scooted his chair over to his son as tears rolled down his son's cheeks. He turned Clark to him and cupped his face in his hands. "Don't you think it's time?" he asked softly.

Clark didn't say anything, but he cried softly, letting out all the emotion he had kept pent up for the past ten years. His body shook as Jonathan pulled him closer, holding his son tight, rubbing his back as he spoke soothing words in a soft reassuring voice.

-

Linda stretched and slowly opened her eyes. She gasped softly when she saw her room – she saw her room . . . but it was different: everything was doubled. She sat up and nearly fell out of her bed. She grabbed the nearest thing to right herself, and she looked over when she realized she had grabbed an arm. Actually, it looked like two arms, but she knew she was holding onto the real one. She slowly followed it up and saw her cousin sleeping beside her.

"Clark?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, trying to focus, feeling like her eyes were crossed, even though she knew they weren't. It was very . . . disorienting.

Clark slowly opened his eyes and yawned, looking around to get his bearings. He seemed a little confused at first, but then he realized he was in Linda's room – on her bed. He glanced over and saw Linda looking down at him in confusion. He did a double take. Linda was staring at him. He shot straight up, looking at her with a slight smile on his face.

"Linda, can you see me?" he asked.

"Well . . . a little," Linda replied, blinking a little. "Everything's . . . doubled."

Clark nodded, knowingly. "Yeah, it will be for a while." He carefully turned her around and wrapped his arms around her, gently pulling her into his chest as he lay back, cocooning her. "How you feeling?"

Linda smiled a little. "Better . . . but I still feel bad about what happened."

"Yeah, I know that feeling."

"How could you?" Linda asked, trying not to sound bitter.

"Because I've been there," Clark answered softly.

"You were drugged too?" Linda asked.

"Yeah," Clark replied. "Repeatedly." He counted in his head. "Four times, actually."

"Four?" Linda whispered in shock.

"Yeah," Clark replied. "And I did a lot of horrible things while drugged."

"Nothing like I did," Linda replied. "I robbed a bank."

"Been there," Clark said.

"Attacked our parents," Linda replied.

"Same here . . . well, just Dad, but still."

"Nearly had sex with Jimmy," Linda added.

"That too," Clark replied. "Well, not with Jimmy, but a girl I was seeing." He tensed a little.

"Who was she?" Linda asked.

Clark took a deep breath. "Her name was Alicia . . . she was . . . different. She had the power to teleport; got it from being exposed to green kryptonite from the meteor shower."

"Did you like her?" Linda asked.

Clark paused. "I did . . . but part of me also liked the ideal her, what I wanted her to be. Looking back now, it was selfish and stupid. She was sick, and she needed a friend, not a boyfriend, but . . . I wouldn't listen to Mom and Dad."

"They didn't like her?"

"Well, I couldn't blame them," Clark replied. "She tried to kill me and Lana at one point, then a year later she drugged me with red kryptonite, and we got married – illegally – and almost . . . ." Linda nodded, knowing exactly what Clark was getting at. "Then she broke a promise to me and exposed my secret to Chloe." He took a deep breath. "She was killed by another guy who was exposed to kryptonite; he hung her."

"Why?" Linda asked.

"Because he believed that those who did bad things should be punished – and he thought he had the right to play judge, jury, and executioner." Linda didn't say anything. "But as horrible as I was then my worst drugging came over a year before."

"What happened?" Linda asked.

Clark took a ragged breath. "Jor-El had decided it was time for me to begin my journey; he scared me, he shamed me, he branded me . . . and because I let him, I caused Mom and Dad a lot of pain." He paused. "I tried to destroy the ship, and I did . . . but I hurt Mom and Dad in the process; the explosion flipped their truck when they were coming home . . . Mom had a miscarriage and lost her baby." His voice shook a little. "I was scared, and I didn't think anyone could love me anymore . . . so I took a red kryptonite ring Chloe had stashed in her desk . . . and I put it on and went to Metropolis. I spent three months there, robbing banks, drinking at nightclubs . . . stealing and hurting people. Dad finally came after me . . . after making a deal with Jor-El to get powers to bring me home."

"What was the deal?" Linda asked quietly.

"I don't know," Clark replied. He suddenly had a brief flash of that night, of falling out of the LuthorCorp building – and then flying away and falling to the ground in front of the farmhouse . . . it was weird. He had had that dream before . . . but he never could figure out what it meant. He pushed it from his head, not wanting to think about that night. "Haven't heard anything from him since that night . . . I don't know if it was just another scare tactic or if he's just biding his time waiting for a certain moment."

"I guess our fathers were a lot alike," Linda replied slightly bitter.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Clark said, "but that's not what I wanted to talk about. I told you this to let you know that it's okay to feel bad . . . but you need to forgive yourself, Linda. You can't keep blaming yourself for things you had no control over."

"Did you ever forgive yourself for what you did?" Linda asked.

"Yeah," Clark replied. "Last night . . . Dad and I talked for a long time; he made me realize it was time to forgive myself . . . and I finally listened." He kissed her cheek. "I just don't want you to wait ten years before you forgive yourself; I love you too much to see you hurt like that."

A tear slipped down Linda's cheek, but she didn't cry. She simply closed her eyes and leaned into her cousin as he held her tightly, hearing and feeling his heart beat strongly. She had always seen Clark as perfect . . . and knowing that he wasn't was a little unsettling, but she also found comfort in knowing that her cousin made mistakes too. She felt better knowing she didn't have to live up to him, that it was okay to mess up and make mistakes.

"You gonna be okay?" Clark asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah," Linda replied. "I think so."

Clark smiled. "You know, Chloe gave me something that you might be interested in."

"Bruce gave me something you might be interested in," Linda replied.

"What?" Clark asked.

Linda stopped. She couldn't tell without revealing that Jimmy was involved – and knew the truth. "Can I show you later?" She needed time to come up with a plausible explanation without Jimmy being involved.

"Sure," Clark replied slowly, a little curious, but he kept silent.

"What did Chloe bring me?" Linda asked.

"The Wall of Weird," Clark answered. "She knew you were interested in the kryptonite-related stuff, and she hasn't touched it since . . . well, since Alicia died; she felt a little responsible. She says you can have the stuff if you don't go overboard with it, okay?" Linda nodded. Clark glanced over at her dresser. There was the office box he brought in late last night (he figured his father brought it up to Linda's room), and an unfamiliar package beside it, with a hand-written note taped on top. "Hold on a second." He gently extracted himself and walked over to the dresser. He read the note. "'Take as much time as you two need. Don't come down until you're ready. Love, Dad.'

Clark smiled and took the note off, then he looked at the package. It was a small cardboard shipping box addressed to Linda from 'Veritas Comics.' "Linda, you expecting something from Veritas Comics?" he asked.

"Yeah, a comic book," Linda replied. "I got a flyer about a week ago, advertising a new comic book character, Seraphim; I was curious, so I bought it." She paused. "Clark . . . would you mind reading it to me?"

"No problem," Clark replied. He opened the package and rummaged carefully through the packing material. He stopped short when he saw the cover of the comic book. 'Seraphim' was emblazoned on the top in bold white letters. Below that a tall blonde woman in a tight white spandex leotard with a red cape and matching mask and boots was flying out of a crashed spaceship – as Warrior Angel stared at her in awe. "Oh, neat, Warrior Angel!"

"Who?" Linda asked.

"A comic book character I liked when I was a kid," Clark replied. He grinned as he brought the comic over and settled in on the bed, propped up against the pillows. Linda snuggled next to him, curling on her side, and she closed her eyes as Clark began reading out loud to her.

THE END


End file.
